The Moll
by Greensleeves89
Summary: Officially Chapter 22 of You'll be the Ruin of Me, but since this is such a long flashback, I'm breaking it into its own story. I hope you enjoy it.
1. Chapter 1: 1962

History says this the place she needs to be. She recalled double-checking the name of the airport multiple times to ensure she wouldn't get the spelling wrong, the name wrong. She didn't think she could, it is an easy name to remember but she has so much anxiousness building within her that she is certain she could make a mistake. Especially since her grasp on the language is still minimal at best. Sure, she is fluent in French and he had attempted to teach her conversational Italian while they had been together, making the argument that Italian and French are both Romantic languages, so she should have picked it up with ease. She did and she didn't. They never progressed any further after one night in her hotel room, or had it been his? She couldn't recall now. She inhales deeply in a small attempt to calm her nerves. It has been so long…

She wanted it to be an easy drop off, and it was, in a sense. She only had to walk a block or two before she reached the main gates for the international airport in Naples. She begins to feel sick with nerves; she can't believe she's this nervous, hell she hadn't even been this nervous when she reunited with the Doctor. Well, their parting hadn't been on the best of terms and she harboured that anger towards him for eight years and then some. But with him…oh it was so unlike anything she's ever known. Not that she liked to compare the two, she didn't, they were so different from each other, aside from some glaring similarities, she had always assumed that's why she had been attracted to him. His sheer brilliance and intelligence, wittiness, how attractive he is and just his demeanor. It had been such a different experience with him than it had been with the Doctor. She had apparently craved that change. Not that they are the same, similar yes, but so different.

She had had so much fun with him she forgot her place for the time they were together. It almost felt like a whirlwind romance, and it was, somewhat. In fact she adored his company so much that she had forgotten on multiple occasions just who he was and that her place in history had become intertwined with his. Still, given who he is she knew she couldn't have interfered. His part and what he did for the Cosa Nostra couldn't be changed, otherwise, where would the others come from?

She swallows and steps into the airport. She feels as though she may be sick. It doesn't help that thickness of the air mingled with the smoke is making it difficult to take full and clean breaths. A sudden crash is heard and she whips around, two men in long beige trench coats are attempting to right a plant they had knocked over. As one is bent over cleaning up the loosened soil, she can see the flash of gold. Those men are police. She frowns; no doubt they have tailed him…hoping to catch him doing something illegal. Well he isn't. Not this time. He had come to the airport to meet someone. That's all. Not the anticipated drug bust those officers are hoping for. She swallows again. Where is he? She waits awkwardly and begins to allow her thoughts to drift to the events that eventually led her to standing in Naples' airport.

She had been thinking about him a lot. Even after she relayed her frustrated tale to Jack over dinner of the Doctor's foolish behavior and jealousy. Not to mention the inability to let it go. Not since the Mad Hatter interrupted their dinner back in the 40s, to relay news about his deportation back to Italy. No. He had wanted to know everything and why she had kept it from him. She had eventually managed to convince him to drop it by saying they had been close. She left it at that; she saw the jealousy flash in his eyes as he discerned what her words meant. She wondered how he had been able to keep silent all his criticisms of her; evidently he was saving them for later.

Of course all of this had been before she had discovered the little tryst with Elizabeth. She still shakes from jealousy about that incident; hell it was the reason she left to see Jack for a couple of hours. She had been angry that he had been dismissive about Elizabeth and her outward affection, how he had lied to her early on in their relationship about his whereabouts, brushing her off for someone more engaging than herself, and concealed the fact that he had married her. This mistress told him she had been getting annoyed at being lied to. How many more are there? He didn't like that question and so had refused to answer her.

That hadn't been the end, he had been exasperated with her about her other lover. She had grown upset that he nearly informed everyone about the tryst. While she swore had he have inquired she would have been truthful, that didn't sate him. She had countered that at least her fling wasn't outwardly pursing her nor making threats to her current lover. He didn't like that comment and suddenly the little innocent kiss, or several, by Jim Morrison paled in comparison.

And Jack, that bastard always had to play devil's advocate. When she had shown up and announced she had been having guy troubles, the first thing Jack did was usher out his date. The man had given Rose a sheepish smile, waving as he slinked past her. Jack invited her in, and she sat, waiting for him to find his shirt while she teased him about his date's name and why he had failed to introduce her before now. When he had confirmed she was having troubles they decided to grab dinner, only after he bought her a round of drinks. That's what she had needed, something hard to drown out her anger before she started recounting her tale to Jack.

As Jack listened, thoroughly to her complain that it wasn't fair for him to be jealous over him or their relationship together. Her barbs had stung him, she told Jack that, she could see the hurt on his face but she hadn't been able to stop herself. It wasn't as if she married him as he had River or Elizabeth and continued to sleep with her when he knew she was in the dark about them. She had always ended things before she started something new. And when he had inquired as to why, considered they hadn't actually ended their relationship, Rose had grown furious. No, that had been true, she had informed him. He forced her away. Their end she hadn't seen coming. She had paused, staring as the whiskey in her glass. She supposed what had hurt the most is that she had just been introduced to this magical little thing called regeneration, lost the man she had met and grown close with and really saw herself with the new him. They defeated the Sycorax and they had just had a rather nice time on New Earth, as good as can be for foiling the evil there. It was the fact that he blew her off when he knew she needed to look after her mum, he couldn't spare a couple of hours to keep her company. While it hadn't bothered her then, she assumed it was to do something more important, well what is more important, apparently, than bedding the Queen of England, which stung deeply when she found out. She hated being lied to. So she rubbed his face in the little tales that spread after that encounter. Elizabeth the first, eh? At least she thought she was the first. He hadn't liked that either and wouldn't allow her to introduce herself to Elizabeth as the current woman he was sleeping with. And she had desperately wanted to.

Jack had agreed with her. Saw her points and hadn't liked the fact that she had to be in the same time and area as he wed the Queen. Even if she had removed herself. She did not want to be around endorsing that. She had been sought after the supposed joyous occasion. It had been an accident that the rowboat she had been floating in got caught up in the current and drifted back their way. It had taken a lot of coaxing to get her from that rowboat. And even still when she had docked the boat, she had still ignored him. All of them, except for Clara. She hadn't wanted to give him the satisfaction of seeing her upset.

She smiled appreciatively as Jack had wiped the tears from her face, finally giving in to her pain and hurt. She admitted the Doctor didn't even know where she was. She had decided she needed time alone, so she had left. She wasn't sorry about not telling him and Jack had agreed. They had been silent; until Jack decided to switch sides, just for a moment. She allowed him to.

Jack had questioned why she had wanted to keep the relationship to herself, hell he hadn't known. Rose hadn't been able to answer him right away. She supposed…she guessed it was because while she was with him he took her mind off of whom she was. When she was with him he made her forget that she was Marion Smith the Freelancer, or Katya Rozanov the Consultant or J.J the Advisor or Rhoswen Wolfe the Specialist. Once again she was Rose Tyler, his Dove. He made her forget her job, her worries, and her troubles and was content with just having her at his side. He made her feel…normal. Well, as normal as could be for being a notorious criminal. He wanted to take her out, show her off, tell the world that she was his girl and that was something she hadn't had in so long. With the Doctor it was always between them, she never regretted it, she told Jack that, she didn't, but unless it was only the two of them they are hardly alone and as such they have to be discreet. And she knew that going in and she had never minded or grew resentful because the times that they had gone out just the two of them, she had always had fun.

But with him…it hadn't mattered they were in public with his peers, associates and friends, he'd kiss her, hold her hand, place his hand on her knee…small things she hadn't noticed she felt deprived of until she had it done to her. Plus it'd been so long since someone had pursued her. Not since John died anyway. She hadn't known how desperate she had been until he had been there ready to offer her whatever she wanted.

Change of pace, Jack had offered and she agreed. Jack questioned on if she should have brought the subject up when they reunited. Rose grew annoyed. Were the opportune moments, sure, of course there had been, but the way things worked out for her…she just…never got around to it. And besides, who likes revealing who they've slept with? Not always a conversation starter. Besides, as she told Jack, had he ever wondered if there had been anyone else besides himself or John, she would have been forthcoming. Her simple defense had been he didn't ask, she didn't tell. She had reiterated to Jack again, it wasn't as if her former lover was coming to bother her current lover. Not as his seem to do.

Once she and Jack had decided to call it a night, she consistently refusing to spend the night, she had decided it'd be better for her to sleep in her own bed and work through her anger. He had embraced her tightly, placed a kiss on her cheek and told her that it'd be fine. She believed him. She always did. However on her way back to the TARDIS, an idea had struck her and she had turned over her shoulder to ensure that Jack hadn't decided to follow her and that she wasn't being followed by someone else she didn't want to talk to.

The last time she had seen him he had been behind prison bars and she had promised that he wouldn't spend the rest of his life there but that she couldn't wait. He had encouraged her to move on, actually he suggested it first, now that she recalls. He didn't want to have her waiting anyhow. She had nodded and placed a kiss on him, or several passionate ones, leaving him to the prison system. Now…something bothered her, all this talk of her love life made her nostalgic. And she wanted to see him one last time. So she had ducked behind an alleyway, behind a rubbish bin and set the coordinates on the manipulator. She had pressed the button and closed her eyes.

When Rose opens her eyes at the thoughts that she's just run through and sighs. Is this even right? Should she being doing this? There isn't much she can do now; she's here…where is he? She bites her lip and walks past the undercover agents as they try to remain inconspicuous. They're doing a lousy job. She almost wants to stop and tell them that they are trying too hard and drawing attention to themselves but she hasn't the time.

She takes a few tentative steps further into the airport lobby, waving the thick smoke from her face and studies the people there. None of them look familiar until…she spies an older man, early sixties heading towards a side exit and she widens her eyes. That's him. She knows it and before she comprehends what she's doing, she's trotting to catch up to him.

'Charlie!' She calls to him and she watches him pause in his step, as if he can recall the sound of her voice and believes his mind is playing ticks on him because he shakes his head and continues towards the exit. 'Charlie!'

This time he stops and slowly turns around. When they lock eyes she can see the shock at her shoving her way through the throngs of people towards him, breaking out into a near run to catch up to him. She nearly smiles at how stunned he is to see her and of course, how when they parted ways nearly three decades ago, she has remained the same in appearance and close to that age. He takes a few tentative steps towards her and when she sees the shock dissolve into pure elation in his eyes, she grins.

However it fades from her mouth as she watches him take a few more rushed steps towards her and then abruptly stop, clutching his chest and falling to his knees. Thankfully she's closed the gap enough that she can slide on her knees and catch him as he starts to fall to the ground. She's too late. She hugs him tightly to her and feels the tears prick her eyes. She's too late…

'Have I already died and gone to heaven, bella? Are you a dream? My Dove can't be here…' He pauses and she clutches him tighter to her and falls to the ground on her backside with him tight into her embrace. He clumsily wraps his arm around her. A soft chuckle escapes him. 'Or maybe this is hell, eh? All the evils I've done…it has to be hell. That's where I'm destined to be.'

'And…? What if it's neither? What if I'm really here?' She wonders and he chuckles again. Rose smiles at his small laugh despite their situation. His voice is huskier than she remembers, most likely because of the decades of smoking, but that's all that's really changed with him. A crowd of people has begun to gather around them. She hates gawkers and so she decides to direct them. 'Perché sono tutti in piedi intorno?! Chiamate un'ambulanza! Per favore! Sta morendo! Andare avanti! Oh, Charlie…no…'

The crowd thins and does as she bids. Charlie nods his head against her. 'Look at that, three decades later Dove…you still remember. Still a touch of a French accent in there.' He teases lightly and she feels him squeeze her side tightly. His breathing is becoming irregular. This hurts.

'That's all you have to say, you compliment my clumsy combination of French like Italian? No, how are you? Charlie, you always used to ask about my day, my work.' She teases and Charlie laughs once more. She glances up to see a few people gathering around the undercover police, pointing to them and they turn to where they are sitting on the ground together. She hugs him to her.

'That's true, I did do that, didn't I?' Charlie recalls and reaches up to place his hand on her cheek. She covers it with her own hand. 'Rose, my Dove, how was your day? And work? Still stressful? Forgive me, I can't offer you a whiskey this time,' He frowns when he notices the burn on her neck and he touches it. She flinches. 'How did you get that?'

Rose bites her lip to keep the tears from falling as she smiles. 'Oh, you know, work…anything like that, it's work, remember?' She smiles when Charlie gives her a weak smirk. 'And…my day was going along fine…until now…'

'Right, your work, still dangerous, eh?' Charlie wonders and Rose nods. He can see the tears fall. 'Come now, I'm an old man, these things happen, you know.' Charlie responds and Rose tilts her head willing him to live just a bit longer until she has a chance to say everything she's wanted.

'I know, but it's you we're talking about…' Rose pauses and takes his hand in hers. 'Think about how we met, you earned that nickname that night.'

'Ah, yes, that night was so long ago,' Charlie pauses and Rose stares at the scar he'd received that night. It seems so much more pronounced now. 'I was a younger man back then, with big plans…' He takes a very deep look at Rose. He smiles. 'And you are as beautiful now as you were then…'

'I know…' Rose breathes and knows he'll ask her how that's possible. She doesn't know what to say to that.

'You know, Albert always said there was something bewitching about you, and that I'd better watch myself.' Charlie informs her and Rose laughs a bit. That isn't exactly what Anastasia had said, a bit cruder actually.

'He didn't say that, Charlie, you liar, remember who you're talking to,' Rose retorts softly and he smiles up at her. Oh, he's never changed. That cocky smirk, those dark eyes…Rose missed him. 'You know what he called me and bewitching was not one of them.'

'Albert takes awhile to warm up to people,' Charlie answers and Rose nods her head in agreement. 'I know you are none of those things…so tell me…because the last time we saw one another, I was behind bars in America on a hot July day and you look exactly the same…how is that possible?' He takes an awkward breath and Rose closes her eyes. She feels him brush away her tears and his hand lingers on her cheek.

'Maybe you ought to believe those things Anastasia said about me, it'd make more sense than what I'm about to say.' Rose offer but Charlie shakes his head at her.

'Albert had his opinions; I want to know the truth. Give a dying man a break.' Charlie insists and Rose takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He shuts his eyes briefly, Rose doesn't want to know how much pain he's in.

Even still she can't stop herself and as he rests his head into the crook of her neck, her hand snakes down and rests on his chest, on his heart. So powerful and yet so frail…this isn't fair how everyone she loves dies on her…even if this is natural, she did love him.

'Charlie…you wouldn't believe me.' Rose attempts to move past this subject so at least they can spend his last moments together. However she knew he'd want to know and that had been a risk she had apparently been willing to take when she came here.

'I'm dying, Dove, give me something to take with me to the other side. Let me work out how it's possible, eh?' Charlie informs her and Rose bites her lip unsure of how to phrase it. Would bluntness suffice?

'I can…' She stops when he grips her hand tightly and coughs. She hugs him tighter to her. His dark eyes flash an apologetic look and Rose feels the tears start. He motions for her to continue. 'I can…travel in time…'

Charlie is quiet and Rose can tell he's thinking about something. They may have only spent a little over six years together, it amounted a little over five or six months in her correct time, because she's just that damned good, but they grew to know one another rather intimately very quickly.

'You know…I don't know what I expected you to say…of all the possibilities out there, that certainly wasn't one of them,' Charlie admits and Rose begins to laugh a bit, she lifts the sleeve of her jacket to expose the manipulator. He brings it closer to inspect, unsure of how it works but marvels at it nonetheless. 'It's…I don't know…'

'I don't always use it for time travel, mostly travelling. I'll be heading to Moscow soon…' Rose admits softly, she needs to go through their memories together for some closure. That's where they are. Still…travelling is always a great conversation starter; they talked all the time about it. That and her work. He had always pressed for more information; simply informing him that she was freelance didn't mean anything to him. He wanted more, although he did seem glad she wasn't tied to any governments.

'Moscow? Rose, it's very dangerous over there right now…' He nearly continues onward but then pauses, looking at her as she smiles down at him. There isn't any point in voicing his concerns to her. She more than likely knows them and will do what she wants to anyway. She always has. That's what he loves about her. Instead he turns his attention to the strange device attached to her wrist and glances to her before staring at the device again. 'Interesting, this little bracelet and you can, say, travel to a year in the future?' Charlie wonders and Rose nods her head.

'Yes, or backwards a year.'

'Then allow me to be nosy, and forgive me for prying, but just when exactly were you born then? How far into the future?' Charlie wonders and Rose blinks wondering why he'd want to know now, of all times.

'What makes you think it's in the future?' Rose questions and Charlie lets out a weak laugh, gripping her hand tightly.

'The moment I laid eyes on you, Rose, the moment you came to my aid on Staten Island after I'd been attacked, I knew there was something about you that didn't belong in 1929.' Charlie admits and Rose frowns at him, placing a soft kiss on his head.

'I do my best to blend in…'

'You cannot hide who you are, Dove, you are feisty and opinionated and have problems with authority…'

'Like someone else I know…' Rose gently teases and Charlie grins up at her. Her smile begins to fade and Charlie frowns, wondering how she could become this upset as he lay dying.

'The New Woman was up and coming back then, but you had a vibe to you that led me to believe that the London you came from, you'd been there done that,' Charlie replies and Rose hugs him to her once again. She can feel the life fading from him; the light behind those dark eyes is fading. 'So indulge me, Rose, what year were you born in? Why keep secrets now?'

'I was born in the 20th century…' Rose replies coyly and Charlie merely eyes her. Oh she hasn't changed at all, still remarkably difficult to break down those walls. He shakes his head against her.

'And I was born in the 19th, that's an awful lot of ground to cover. Are you going to tell me a century separates us?' Charlie inquires casually and Rose relents, what's the point in keeping secrets now anyway?

'Twenty four years from now, in London.' Rose confesses and Charlie stares at her, which will put her time on Earth from 1986 onward. She's here in 1962 now…she could be lying, but then again she's never lied to him before. She looks exactly the same as she did in 1929, in 1930…now, and all the years in between. She can't be lying.

'My god…' Charlie breathes and Rose squeezes his hand. He shuts his eyes tightly and coughs again, he rests his right hand on her leg, rubbing it lightly and Rose feels the fresh tears sting her eyes.

'I lead an interesting life.'

'You do, Dove and here I thought I did.'

'Yours pales in comparison to mine.' Rose offers and it draws another laugh from Charlie. He's paled so much, Rose is so afraid he could go at any time. She's not ready to see him off yet. Maybe she never should have come.

'Rose you travel in time…I just ran the Family,' Charlie shuts his eyes and it takes him several attempts to reopen them. When he does he brings her hand to his mouth to offer her a kiss. She closes her eyes and her tears fall down. 'I didn't think you'd be this upset, Dove, we haven't seen each other in twenty odd years.'

'That doesn't mean that the time we did spend together meant nothing to me, Charlie…that you meant nothing to me…'

'Yes, we did have fun together, didn't we?' Charlie responds and Rose nods her head. She doesn't want to let him go. Even though she can pick up a history book to read about his endeavors after his release from prison, she wants to hear it from him. He sighs from the pain and Rose can feel his heart slowing beneath her hand. 'And you meant a lot to me too, Rose. I've never met a woman quite like you before.'

'Still full of flattery, eh, Charlie?'

'Only for you,' Charlie responds and Rose presses her lips together waiting out the time. 'Rose, will you promise me something?'

'Of course…'

'I don't want you to be there. I want you to stay away, remember me for, well, not the good, as there wasn't much of that, or the bad because there's _too_ much of that…' Charlie pauses and frowns as he attempts to leave something for her to think of him in his death. 'Remember me for the nights we were together. Without the stigma of our personas attached to us.'

'That's all I think of, Charlie.'

'Good, that's the only good thing I could leave you. I've been made a villain by society and the law, I'm glad you didn't fall victim to it, even though you knew very well what I had done.'

'Of course I knew, Charlie but there were two sides to you. The side I knew and the side the law knew…I told you what attracted me to you…but I couldn't just influence you to become a law-abiding citizen, you had your goals…' Rose replies and Charlie nods his head. Something that had consumed his entire life. She had been right. The Family demanded much of his time, effort and energy. Rose was always there when he needed her. A gift he could never repay.

They are quiet for some time, his breathing becoming fainter and fainter until he turns to her and frowns, mustering up the last of his strength. 'Does dying always take this long?'

Rose smiles sadly. 'Sometimes.'

Charlie remembers something abruptly and takes her hand tightly. 'Can I ask you something?'

'Of course you can.'

'In the past seven or eight years…were you ever in Havana?' Charlie questions and Rose feels the emotion drain from her face. She's stunned. How does she answer that? By avoiding it? He knows she time travels now, does that mean in the future, some time soon, she travels back to see him one final time because he said she was there? It scares her. She can't stay away. She decides to make an effort to move on from this subject by joking with him.

'No, not that I know of,' Rose responds and Charlie eyes her, nodding a bit. She attempts a smile and places a kiss on his head. 'Has it been so long that you've forgotten what I look like?'

He answers her with a strained laugh. 'No, she just reminded me a lot of you, then. It made me wonder how lucky I would be to meet another woman just exactly like you.'

She knows. Instantly she knows what he's talking about. However just to be sure… 'Charlie, what did she look like?'

'Green eyes, freckles, a lot of curly red hair. You're right, now that I'm thinking of it, it isn't you at all, is it, Dove?'

Oh but it is, Rose thinks and closes her eyes, knowing that at some point, soon she imagines, she's going to Havana. 'No, it doesn't. _Sounds_ like me though.' She concedes and Charlie smiles in response.

'It does, that's why I had to ask.' He replies. He nearly confesses he had attempted to contact her when he had gotten out of prison, but she seemed to vanish into thin air. Back then he hadn't understood it, now it's very clear. He is what kept her in New York for as long as she was there.

Rose holds him tighter to her, stunned that even after this encounter, she isn't sated and must seek him out once more. Once is never enough. Hell look what happened when she had finally agreed to dinner all those years ago. There is something about him that draws her to him.

'I wish I had been…' She admits and then they fall into a silence. Not an awkward one, one of contemplation. And realisation. A thought then strikes her and she becomes worried. 'Charlie…who should I tell first? Meyer?'

'No, don't tell Meyer first. He doesn't need to know right away,' Charlie pauses and turns his gaze to her. 'Carlo. Tell Carlo. He'll inform the Families and everyone else, he'll be the most level headed.'

'Carlo…' Rose bites her lip, nervous Carlo wouldn't want to hear from her and question her immensely. Carlo, a sweet looking older man, had always unnerved her but make no mistake, she was sure he could flip with the drop of a hat. 'Okay, I'll tell Carlo first.'

'Thank you, Dove.' Charlie replies and Rose laces her fingers with him, placing a kiss on his head. She holds her breath, unsure if she want to breathe for fear if she does, he'll die that much sooner.

When she looks up to the entrance she can see the crowd of people waiting for them and pointing them in her direction when the paramedics arrive. They begin to run towards her. Rose glances down to Charlie but sees his eyes are closed. Rose feels the tears run down her face, angry that she didn't make it in time. Angry that she couldn't have been here sooner.

'Charlie?' Rose whispers and he barely opens his eyes in response to her. He reaches up with his free hand and places it on her cheek, rubbing the tears off of her and giving her a small smile.

'Indulge me, Rose, one last time.' Charlie pleads and Rose nods her head quickly, leaning around and placing a final kiss on, Charlie is elated to know that he'll get to take her tender kiss with him to the afterlife. Wherever it may be.

When he pulls away he settles against her once more, shutting his eyes. He doesn't reopen them again and when the paramedics grow closer, Rose attempts to rouse him, just in case.

'Charlie?' Rose calls, shaking him slightly. She widens her eyes and bites her lip, feeling sick. 'Charlie?' Her voice comes out frantic.

He doesn't answer her and the paramedics have arrived. She ignores what they're saying to her because her entire focus is on Charlie right now. He isn't breathing and has no pulse. Rose closes her eyes and holds him tight to her. When the paramedic grabs her arm, she snaps her eyes open.

'Signora, è necessario muoversi. Facciamo il nostro lavoro. Si può venire con noi, se volete, ma devi lasciarlo andare.'

Rose shakes her head at them and she is forcibly moved to her feet and out of the way, her hand slips from Charlie's and when the paramedic turns to her Rose brushes away the tears quickly. 'No, thank you…I don't want to go with you.'

'Ottimo.' The man replies and helps his partner lower the gurney to the floor.

Rose turns on her heel and runs back the way she came, brushing her tears away as she does. When she runs past a group of payphones perched just outside the airport, Rose stops and begins to dig around for some money to make the dreaded call to New York. She has to turn around because she can still see Charlie in airport.

Rose lifts the receiver, wiping the mouthpiece on her sleeve and depositing the money. She hopes Carlo is still at the same number, he has to be. Question is… is it Brooklyn or Long Island? Her hands are clammy and she swallows…she still doesn't know what to say to him, how to break the news to him. They've been friends forever…what should she say? She dials the number with trembling fingers and holds her breath waiting to see who would answer. It rings and rings, what if he doesn't answer? What if he doesn't want to talk to her? She stops herself. Panicking over nothing. She exhales shakily as someone lifts the receiver on the other end.

'Yes?'

'Carlo?' Rose breathes and there is a long drawn out pause. Rose can only imagine what's going on his head right about now. A girl from twenty odd years ago is calling him? He must be suspicious as all hell right now.

'Yes, Rose, is that you?'

'Yeah, it is…'

'No…'

'Yeah…hi.' Rose is unable to keep her voice at a steady, audible pace. Instead it comes out as a whisper.

'Hi.'

'Hi.' She repeats and closes her eyes at her stupidity. She can't think clearly.

'Hi…'

'Hi…' Rose clears her throat and glances back through the airport doors. She doesn't want to look so she has to forcibly turn herself away and focus on her conversation.

'What's this…?' Carlo begins before Rose has interrupted him.

'How's Catherine?' Rose had always liked her; a quiet, docile woman but she had a sharp wit to her. There had been many times they had been around one another that Catherine left her laughing so hard the tears rolled down her cheeks.

'She's well, thank you for asking.' Carlo's voice has a sigh in it and she can see he's getting rather on edge as to why she would be calling him out of the blue.

'And the kids?'

'Also well,' Carlo replies and Rose fingers the payphone cord as she struggles to think of how to tell him the news. She's drawing a blank. 'Rose, are you all right? You're not in…trouble, are you?'

'Huh? No, no.'

'Are you sure? I'd do what I could to help you if you needed it.' Carlo states seriously and it makes her smile slightly that even after all these years, he still considers her important to his Family. But that's a brutality that she doesn't need. Carlo is dangerous enough on his own, best not to involve the others.

'I am sure, but thanks, Carlo…I appreciate the gesture.' Rose responds seriously, still touched, in a small way, that he'd offer his protection to her.

'You're still a member of the Family, Rose.' Carlo reminds her and she hides her smiles in her sleeve, even if she knows Carlo wouldn't be able to tell the difference. They truly don't forget the bond formed between one another. Rose had never been entirely sure Carlo liked her back in the day, a quiet man, he normally didn't say much to her, that's why he had been so hard to gage.

'Which family?' She wonders and Carlo chuckles lightly.

'Mine. Charlie's.' He answers and Rose tilts her head, forgetting for a moment the year and his climb to power. Not to mention what he did to get there. Poor Albert…his assassination has become legend.

'No, did you really?' Rose breathes and another light laugh is heard over the phone. 'Carlo…congratulations. That's…wow. Wow.'

'Thank you, Rose.' Carlo replies sincerely, deciding not to fill her in on the events that led him to the top. She and Albert did go toe to toe many times, trading wits. He isn't sure how she would take it knowing that he had a hand in his assassination. Well, he shouldn't have ordered the hit on the civilian who aided in the capture of a criminal. They _don't_ go after civilians.

Not to mention the fact that Anastasia had started to let all that power of being the head of the family go to his head. Wanting to make himself boss of all bosses. The very thing they had fought against decades ago! What they had rebelled against! That's why they had the Commission. To say that incensed him would have been an understatement.

'Yeah…' Rose breathes.

He lets a small sigh escape him and then clears his throat. Rose knows where this conversation is heading. She goes against her better judgment and turns back to see the paramedics shaking their heads. The sheet goes over. Rose widens her eyes from the shock and turns herself back into the safety of the payphone. 'Now…you had plenty of opportunity to call to see how I was over the last…' He trails off and Rose smiles.

'Twenty six years?' She offers and another light laugh from Carlo causes Rose to smile sadly.

'Yes, twenty-six years. Why now?'

Rose hesitates, the sound of words forming escape her mouth but she is unable to bring herself to form complete words. So much runs through her mind, does she just blurt it out? She is thinking about it but the words can't be vocalised. She starts and stops. Fresh tears well up and she hastily wipes them away with her sleeve.

'I…I'm…I'm in Naples.' Rose states, her tone is almost full of disbelief, like she's just admitted a secret. Silence on the other end of the phone, Rose doesn't realise that she's holding her breath until Carlo speaks and she exhales.

'Right now?'

'Yes.'

'You know…Charlie is living there. Maybe it'd be nice if you could stop by and see him. I'm sure I've got his address here somewhere,' Carlo states and Rose begins to hear the sound of drawers opening and papers shuffling. Rose bites her lip. 'It would make him very happy; he's never quite gotten over you, Rose, even if he never admitted it. Ah, here it is…'

'I…already saw him…' Rose whispers and again there is a long pause. A drawer shuts in her ear.

'Did you?' Carlo questions and Rose wraps her free arm around herself. She presses her lips together and squeezes her eyes shut.

'Yeah…yeah I did…' Rose inhales sharply and Carlo can hear the change in her voice. It falters between normal and failing to a whisper. She's hiding something. Or maybe she's having a hard time telling him something, something big, a big secret. The longer the silence stretches between them the more concerned he grows. 'I can't say it. Carlo, I can't say because I don't believe it's happened.'

'Rose, this is concerning. What's happened?' Carlo begs and Rose's hand shakes so she instead switches hands, so the one that's shaking is forced to hold the receiver. It doesn't do much good, and after awhile, Rose has switched hands once again.

'See…I…knew Charlie was here…that's why I came. And…I saw him, we met up again. But…' Her voice quivers and she hastily blinks away the tears. She can't imagine the thoughts that are going through Carlo's head right now and she knows that she has to tell him now. 'See, Carlo…Charlie, he…he just…died. In my arms, just now…he's gone. How can he be gone?' She inhales sharply to stop herself from sobbing and she questions everyone and no one. She's trying to keep the complete breakdown at bay.

Carlo is silent on the other end. Finally he exhales heavily into the receiver and Rose is glad, she thought for a moment he'd hung up. 'I will be on the next flight over.'

'Okay, okay thank you,' Rose breathes and clears her throat so that she can concentrate on their conversation. She glances into the airport to see the paramedics begin towards her. 'This really happened…how can it…?'

'I know, Rose, I know,' Carlo sighs into the phone and suddenly she's never felt more alone. 'Rose, I'm sorry but I must go, I have to tell Vito, Meyer…people have to be informed before I go.'

'I understand…' She whispers into the phone and uses her sleeve to wipe away her tears. 'Carlo…Charlie…didn't want me to stay, to be there…to see him…' She begins but stumbles over her words and so she stops.

'No, that's very much like him,' Carlo agreed and sighed heavily into the receiver. 'I expect you won't be there when I arrive then?'

'No, but I want to be, Carlo if he didn't tell me not to be there…' Rose's voice cracks and Carlo interrupts so she doesn't have to speak any more. He's rather surprised that after all this time apart; she still feels the same for Charlie as he did for her, even if he didn't want to her to hang around.

'I know you would, Rose, I know…'

'I just didn't want to go without telling you why…I didn't want to seem…callous, or have you or anyone think bad about me because I wasn't there.' Rose explains and notices the paramedics are getting closer. She doesn't want to be this close to him in this sense.

'I wouldn't think that, Rose.'

'Thank you…'

'I'm glad you were with him, at least he wasn't alone,' Carlo replies and Rose nods her head at his words, even if he can't see her and the tears well up behind her eyes again. Those words cut her deeply. 'Will you be all right?'

'Yeah, eventually I guess…'

'Then this is where we must part ways once again. A final time.' Carlo informs her and Rose smiles into the receiver, looking at her feet and then to the doors to the airport.

'Ciao, Carlo…'

'Goodbye Rose.' Carlo answers and Rose holds her breath as the paramedics begin to go through the doors towards their ambulance. She closes her eyes and turns away from them.

'Carlo…please…just…I mean…I want…to…' The words don't form correctly and there is a small exhale of a laugh. She closes her eyes so grateful that he understands where she's trying to go.

'I will.' Carlo agrees and Rose smiles a bit into the receiver.

'Thank you…'

Rose hangs up the phone and trudges towards a nearby bench, oddly enough facing the ambulance. She's quiet as she lets her thoughts run rampant in her head. She can smell his cologne on her…it's comforting, minimally comforting…just like before. Just like when she left him in prison after he all but pushed her out of the cell. She didn't wash that blouse for nearly a week, instead letting it hang on the hanger on a hook in her room, staring at it for what felt like ever. Because it reminded her of him and it smelled of him. Just a sliver of minimal comfort.

Getting over him hadn't been easy; throwing herself into her work merely distracted her. The harder she worked, the less time she had to be alone with her thoughts. Less time to think. About Charlie. About them together and how much fun she had with him. She had done the same thing when she lost John.

But…at the end of the night, when she would go to whatever room she was staying at for the night, she would stand in the middle, half expecting him to appear beside her and how hard she had to fight the clawing need to visit him in prison, just because. Because she could. Nothing made any room she was in feel emptier than wanting him in it.

Inevitably the thoughts would turn into her comparing her feelings when she lost John. That made her bitter and angry. So she worked harder to forget them both. Because it would be better that way. She was better off alone. That way, those she had grown to love, those she had fallen for so hard, wouldn't leave her, thrusting her into loneliness once again. That was her loneliest moment. Watching her life begin to crumble around her, piece by piece and all she could do was stare blankly. She buries her face into her hands and waits for the flood of tears and sobs to escape from her, having wanted to for so long.

Strangely the breakdown never comes, she feels the tears falling, steadily, but that's it. What's wrong with her? How could she be all right with this happening? She knew coming had been a bad idea but the memories evoked by her discussing her surprising long and memorable time with him made her pine for him once more. If only she had arrived sooner…

* * *

><p>'Thought I might find you here.'<p>

Rose doesn't look up or acknowledge he's sitting beside her; her back is towards him so that she can see the scene unfolding before her. Instead she watches the ambulance slowly drive away. They had attempted to revive him but couldn't. There wasn't really a rush now to get back to the hospital. She watches it drive down the road until it disappears around the corner.

'Did you now?' Rose wonders bitterly and watches as the crowds build and the news reporters arrive. She feels sick. They're like vultures. That hadn't taken long. She thought she'd be gone by now, but something is holding her here. However some of those people that had been around them earlier are pointing the media towards her.

'Given what happened, and I couldn't find you on the TARDIS…I took a guess.'

'I'm still not talking to you.' Rose announces and crosses her arms, still not turning to him. She doesn't want to give him the satisfaction.

'Rose…' He stops and glances to the crowd forming as they begin to head towards her. Even though they just had a major fight he's still protective of her. He doesn't want her to be bothered by the media after something like this. 'Can we talk about this on the TARDIS?'

'I have my own ride, thanks.' Rose responds and holds up her left arm; no doubt the jacket sleeve is hiding the manipulator.

'Look, I know we had a bad fight, Rose, but running away isn't going to solve anything.'

'Who says I'm running?' She questions and sets her jaw, she still doesn't want to look at him for fear she could say something she may regret. He couldn't even leave her in peace to grieve for her loss. Like he'd understand anyway. 'I'm giving myself space…'

'I know you think I won't understand…' He begins and Rose narrows her eyes spinning around to look at him finally and he's rather taken back by the anger in her eyes, but also how red they are, she's been crying. But…he doesn't really understand why.

'You're right, you won't. You said what you wanted to earlier. Tried to make me feel terrible about my relationship with him, but here's the thing, where the hell were you? Ah, right, I had no idea. And as I told you earlier, he made me happy and made me feel normal.' Rose informs him and she crosses her arms at him and he remains silent.

Clearly she isn't ready to get over this, it had been a rather nasty fight and she doesn't want to talk about it. Well, she can't sweep it under the rug he won't let her.

'He was still a criminal, Rose. He committed terrible crimes, why can't you see that?' He regrets the words immediately when they leave his mouth. They seem to stun her as well because she stares at him in shock and he can see how deeply they've cut her.

'Yes, you never fail to point that out. Thank you, I'm well aware of that. But hey, you got English royalty, what's wrong with mob royalty?' Rose questions sarcastically and stands while he stares at her in shock. The media surrounds them and manages to separate Rose from him and she grows more and more annoyed. She balls her fists. She nearly adds something that could hurt him deeply too, nearly shouts to him that falling in love with him, as he who stands before her now, had been the most exquisite form of self destruction. But she bites her tongue and exhales her anger.

'Mi scusi, signora? Signora? Un attimo del tuo tempo? Signora?' A man pushes a microphone under her nose and Rose bats it away. She turns to leave but another man is right in front of her, except he's holding a small notebook and has a pen poised.

'Qual è il tuo collegamento per Luci…?' He demands and Rose pushes him to the side, he doesn't get to finish his sentence since she's storming off. She turns back to the small crowd of reporters that stare ready for an explanation and her side of the story, pencils poised above notepads.

'Je ne parle pas italien,' Rose fumes in French and points to the Doctor. She narrows her eyes and takes a step back. She doesn't want to be bothered, least of all by him. She just wants time because she's certain that if they get together in the same room it'll dissolve into nothing but a fight. 'Don't follow me. I'm serious. I'll come back when I'm good and ready and certain we won't fight.'

She heads off towards the main road and the moment the road leads to a series of buildings she ducks behind them and activates the manipulator. She has no idea where she's going but she doesn't care. All she wants right now is quiet.

The Doctor heads back to the TARDIS. This is serious. What if she never comes back, and for what? Because they're fighting over their jealousy? Actually, he's managed to flip it around on her again; she's not had a chance to yell at him for what had happened with Liz. He's been so concerned with guilt tripping her for her decisions that she's been on the defense all day, no chance for the offence. He frowns. He'll just have to see, and hope that she'll come back when she's ready. He just hopes that it isn't long. He bows his head trudges back to the TARDIS to play a game he's always hated playing. Waiting. However maybe he can turn this into a learning process…


	2. Chapter 2: Present Day

This is where it had all started. Sure the bricks have worn down now, some have been replaced, but it was right here that those three men, cops as Charlie had told her later, pushed him and he landed here. Right where she's standing now. The cops always maintained their innocence, blaming his beating and stabbing on an associate of his, his boss. However she didn't see Joe the Boss doing this to him, Charlie pled fealty to him, he was a good earner for him. Rose chose to believe Charlie about the cops, a warning to try and stop him from what he had been doing. Then again alliances were always shifting in that line of work. So who really knows?

She turns in a small circle and feels fresh tears start when she remembers how she had helped him and her stare goes to her hands. She had had so much fun with that man; he made her feel…so different, unlike anything else she's ever had before. Not one of the other men in her life made her feel the way Charlie did. It didn't matter to her that he was a criminal, and she knew, she knew damn well she couldn't take him away from the life he had. What he did had been history, and history still remembers him well, for all the good and bad. Mostly bad. But they didn't see Charlie the way she did. To her, if she did as he bid and simply remembered him for who he was when he was with her…it was different. He was brilliant, smart and funny. He could make her laugh even when she had the most trying of days. But like every man in his profession he loved going out…and he would always make sure she was at his side. It made her feel…like she was getting a second chance at reliving her life when she had spent so much of it with the Doctor. This is what people did; they went out with their significant other and had fun, drank and danced. She forgot that's what people did, for so long she had been travelling with a man who had shown her different kinds of beauty and wonder around the universe that she had forgotten the fun that could be had in her own backyard and with someone she loved. And Charlie…he ignited something in her she hadn't felt in so long. And something else that kept her around him for so long…he didn't care that she stuck out so badly in his time. Unable to bend to authority, men included, too snarky for the majority of the 'normal' people…he loved that. He had adored that she wore what she wanted to, she couldn't handle being in dresses all the time, or skirts, and saved those for the times they went out, which, now that she thinks of, was quite frequently, so in reality he got to see her in a dress nearly every day. She smiles at that. She hadn't noticed, but she bets he did.

She aimlessly walks until she finds a bench and sits, feeling her loss resonate deeply within her. She's been with a man who had 'died' and come back to life so many times that she had forgotten what it was like to be with another human. John was different. Even though he had the humanity side to him, to her, he had always been more Time Lord, that's who he was, she forgot, many times that he _was_ human, half of one at least. He'd always be a Time Lord to her. Maybe that was because frail didn't emanate off of him, not until the end, anyway. She and Charlie together…both utterly human. How frail they are, unlike the man she's with now, Charlie wasn't coming back. And that point drives itself home further and further as the seconds tick by. The tears start again and Rose leans back against the bench, wrapping her arms around herself as she does her best to keep the tears back. Charlie told her once when she had a break down from the stress of work, crying didn't suit her. She's much too good for that. She's too strong. This wasn't stress, though, this is her grieving for him. So she hopes, wherever he is now…he can forgive her for breaking. She so desperately wants to be there…in Naples but she promised him that she'd stay away. She should also put the thought of joining Carlo out in Queens nearly a decade later when he'd finally came back to New York out of her mind now. She wants to be there so badly.

The trees sway the warm breeze around her and Rose brings her elbows to rest on her knees as she buries her face in her hands in allows her loss to wash over her. Another life lost while around her…she knows she shouldn't think of it like that, this time…this time it had been completely out of her control. How can she just press on now that she had been forced to think of him…she always thought of him after they parted ways, but she hates to admit to herself that after reuniting with the Doctor he had slipped her thoughts. Not on purpose of course, and when the Mad Hatter had confronted her at dinner…she had fallen for him all over again. And fell so hard.

The sounds of people approaching cause Rose to lift her head and brush away her tears in haste. She continues to sit as they pass her by and she attempts to find comfort in her memories of them together. Abruptly she stands and punches in the coordinates to Russia. That's where she's hidden everything of their time together. His gifts to her, their photos…Rose smiles slightly and feels marginally better. Maybe talking to Ekaterina will help as well. She's never steered her wrong and Rose has always taken her advice seriously. She really needs it now.

She swallows and is gone. Hoping she won't be followed.


	3. Chapter 3: 1929

It felt as though it was getting colder by the minute. Even for an October night it seems colder. So she pulls her light jacket tighter to her body to block out the cold. She didn't really come prepared. Then again she's never usually prepared. She had decided to come to Staten Island to, well, really to wander and she hadn't wanted to wander around her Staten Island, too much going on, after all, New York never sleeps. She thought maybe she'd try the past, things were different back then, maybe New York didn't change, at least now either, but Staten Island had to. So she gave it a shot, arbitrarily flipping through the years until she closed her eyes and picked. 1929 had been the winner. That was fine, she hadn't minded, she just made sure to stay away from the city centre. She may just be running around right now trying to stop Daleks. She smiles. That had been some time ago.

The park she is currently wandering around, she's no idea of the name of it, but it has to be close to a major motorway, she can hear the traffic, faintly as it drives on by but that's it. The wind rustles the leaves, some falling down around her feet. They're soggy from the rain that had passed through earlier in the evening. It smells like autumn and she loves it. That means winter is coming and it'll be her second year attempting to snowboard, she's rather excited. She needs to decide where to go, maybe Whistler? When she does eventually pass by a small wooden steak in the ground, she can faintly make out the park's name. The lights aren't very bright but she can see she's wandering around Wolfes Pond Park, she laughs to herself. Lovely. Spying a bench just a few meters from where she is, she decides to sit, tucking her thin jacket under her legs and smoothing down the front.

It's a pretty dress and she doesn't want to ruin it. There aren't a lot of dresses she has that can pass for several styles depending on the decade, and when she had found this one, she wanted to ensure she preserved it for as long as possible. Simple, that's how she liked it and it had been a perfect choice for the show she ended up seeing. Pure accident on the free admission part, she just walked and walked until she stumbled upon a small theatre and they offered her a ticket, first one in a list of shows and they wanted to promote it. It had been all right. The main actress had a very squeaky voice and didn't seem to suit the role of a downtrodden woman, she maintained too much of a bubbly exterior. And the chorus had been slightly off key…but hey, who is she to judge? They're most likely very happy that they are employed right now. Work is hard to come by, so anything will have to do.

When the show had finished, she slipped out a few minutes before, she wasn't sure what to do with herself, still even now she isn't sure. She hadn't wanted to go home, even now she doesn't want to return, she has nothing waiting for her so maybe that's why she's still lingering in 1929. It's only been a few days since she left UNIT, tired of the BS that ran rampant in that outfit. Only Kate made it bearable but she was often so busy with other divisions and things out of country that she was often left with Bill who she loathed. Kate and herself collaborated wonderfully and implemented some good changes but it hadn't been enough to keep her there. Kate had been heartbroken when she announced she would be leaving and did all in her power to convince her to stay. It had been the Ruby Jade incident that drove her decision. She didn't feel respected by Bill and that incident solidified it for her. She put in her resignation the next day. When Kate had inquired as to what she would do now, she jokingly replied that she'd freelance. She had only been half kidding of course, but sure enough Kate tapped her for resources the next day. So she went back as a consultant. Much to Bill's delight and her chagrin.

Even though she's in 1929, looking for a small reprieve from her busy and noisy life, she can't bare to leave her mobile behind, so she has it in her pocket. It doesn't go off, thankfully and so she decides to check her watch. It's after midnight here, local time which means back home it's after five in the morning. Maybe that's why she isn't tired. She gets up from the bench, nothing will be open at this hour anyway, so what's the point in wandering? She should just get home, that way she can ease herself into sleep, buy a coffee? She sighs and frowns. She could stay here for a bit and ponder her life now, she isn't worried about being alone in the streets, and she can more than handle herself. So she starts to walk through the park, wondering where she'll end up next. It's nice to get a break for once.

The sound of screeching tires makes her stop and listen to the surrounding woods; birds are disturbed by the noise and fly overhead. It almost sounds as though the noise is getting closer and the car, or whatever is actually in the park itself. She frowns and begins to head towards it. So much for a night off. She starts to run so she doesn't miss it, her cold breath is visible in front of her and she pauses in her stride. She doesn't think she has to worry about missing because it sounds as though it's coming towards her.

Indeed it is. She can see the headlamps from the car as it quickly closes the gap between them. The car is driving erratically and she wonders if the driver is drunk or on the lam from police. What if they're rumrunners? This city is surely crawling with them. The car is barreling towards her so quickly she barely has time to jump out of the way and into the bushes as she peers over top of them, she's just in time to see that the car is actually an obsolete limousine and the back door opens in a flourish. There are three men that she can see huddled around the door, they're in suits, that much she can tell but they shove a fourth man from the door and he lands with a hard crunch on the pavement, rolling a few times. He doesn't move. Rose gasps and pulls herself from the bushes rushing towards the man just as the three by the door of the limo snap it shut, but not before she hears their conversation.

'Careful ya big idiot! Ya nearly hit the skirt!'

'Oi! Stop!' Rose shouts to them but it's futile, the limo has peeled off down the park trail and disappears from sight. All that's left for her to hear is the screeching tires as they make their hasty getaway.

Forgetting for a moment the old style limo, she turns her attention to the man that had been tossed from the vehicle. He's groaning and moved on to his back. Rose rushes over to him. She drops to her knees and inspects him carefully. If she doesn't move quickly, he'll be dead. However there isn't much she can do for him here.

His wounds are grave. He's been hit so hard in the left eye that the blood vessels have broken, leaving the sclera a bright red and puffy from the swelling. She wonders if the orbital socket has been fractured, she can't tell.

However the eye has already turned a violent shade of purple and black. Without a knife on her she can't cut it to relieve the swelling, but it only gets worse for this poor bloke. He's suffered a deep slash from a knife to the right side of his face, and it's bleeding immensely. He's been stabbed in the abdomen as well, several times. Friction from his tumble from the limo has caused scraps all over the visible parts of his hands, under his arm, who knows how bad it is. Under the right eye the purple mark from being hit has been swelling each passing second. Rose swallows quickly and shrugs off her trench coat jacket, several attempts later the cheap fabric has been torn in two; at least she knows why it had been on sale. She holds one piece of the cloth to his face and the other to his stomach. She moves his hand to hold the fabric on his stomach and he groans from the effort. She notices that his knuckles have been bloodied, torn and bruised as well. She hopes he hasn't fractured anything in his hand…

Rose bites her lip and gingerly places her hand on his; at least he fought back, hopefully caused some damage to the other party. She really hopes he won't die in her care, but his breaths are so shallow that it makes it difficult to tell if it's because he's dying or he has sprained or broken ribs. Hopefully it's the latter.

He's coherent at least, it's a wonder he's survived this long. This poor man, what's happened to him? She needs to call someone to come out and grab him before he dies, she's not really doing anything substantial to save him and she sure as hell can't whisk him off to London in the future; he just may die from the shock. He startles her when he weakly grabs her bare arm and she jumps, her mind so wrapped up in planning what she ought to do that she didn't see it coming.

'You're…cold…' He manages weakly and Rose smiles. He has a slight Italian accent, the New York one covers the majority of it, but she's been around the globe enough now to pick up subtle things.

'Rather be cold than let you bleed out in front of me.'

'British, eh? What brings you to Staten Island?' He attempts light conversation but Rose can see the strain it puts on him. She can't have that. It'll drain him more; she can feel the fabric in her hands become wet from the blood.

'Tell you what, you get better and I'll let you know. For now, don't talk, you'll waste your air,' Rose informs him and he eyes her as if he thinks it's funny a woman is telling him what to do but that he enjoys it. 'My name is Rose.'

He doesn't answer her. She's not even sure he heard her as he has his eyes closed and she worries he's died. She frowns and decides to see if he has a wallet on him so that she can identify him to police when she calls them. He's a nice dresser, the suit looks expensive and she reaches into his inner jacket to look for his wallet and she manages to secure it, fishing it out, she uses her thumb to flip it open. She barely has time to make out the name Salvatore before he grips her hand and she jumps.

'What are you…?' He begins and Rose presses her finger to his lip to silence him.

'I was just trying to see who you are, so I can tell them when I call for them.' Rose explains and he manages a weak smile.

'They already know me.' He replies and Rose feels herself smirking at his response. She rather likes him.

'Oh do they now?' Rose questions and shifts so she's sitting on her side, getting more comfortable and pressing her hand gently against the bloody cut to his face. It could scar very badly, hell she hadn't seen it actually runs up the side and onto his eye. Who in the hell did he piss off? 'Well Salvatore…'

'Charles, or Charlie, if you'd like.' He informs her and Rose nods her head at him, she can see he's giving her a thorough once over as well.

'Okay Charlie, I won't ask how this happened, but I need to call the them you know so the them can help you. I'll not have you die on my watch.' Rose informs him and he weakly shrugs from indifference, he rather likes the way her accent pronounces his name. She eyes him and reaches into the front of her dress, pulling out her mobile and Charlie frowns.

'Interesting spot to put that, whatever it is.' Charlie remarks and Rose shrugs her shoulders. He grits his teeth from the pain and Rose shifts his hand out of the way to look at the stab wounds and she quickly dials the number and places the mobile on her shoulder and brings it to her ear.

'I forgot a purse.' She replies simply and waits for someone one to pick up. She bites her lip and moves his shirt out of the way. She widens her eyes and glances up to him. He doesn't seem worried by her concern. His eye has gotten worse as the minutes tick by.

'Did you?' He wonders and groans slightly. 'How bad is it?'

'You're extremely lucky, it's a surprise you haven't bled out yet.' Rose comments and grows annoyed that no one has answered; she doesn't give up and allows it to continue to ring. She tries dabbing gently but it seems to aggravate him further and so she stops.

'That's funny, that's my nickname.'

'What is?' Rose questions and Charlie smiles at her confidently. It's funny she has no idea who he is. That's rather refreshing. How many citizens on the streets of New York would stop to help him?

'Lucky.'

Rose doesn't have time to answer him because someone has finally answered the phone and she sighs in relief. 'Yeah, hello yourself. What the hell are you doing, sleeping on the job? I don't care that it's after midnight, crime never sleeps,' Rose looks down when Charlie laughs with trouble. 'Talk all you want I have an emergency here. I'm on Staten Island, a man has been stabbed. Of course I'm serious, he was thrown from a car! How the hell should I know? What am I doing out so late? Excuse you, that's none of your business. Are you gonna get your lazy…I'm at Wolfes Pond Park. Wow, thank you for doing your job. Whatever. South side of the park. Try and show some haste, yeah? Because if he dies I'll raise hell and have your job.' It's hard to hang up angrily on a mobile, price for progress, she supposes.

'So…' Charlie begins and winces. Rose presses the fabric back to his stomach when she notices that it begins to bleed once more.

'Bloody useless, are all cops in New York this useless?' Rose wonders exasperated and slips the mobile back into the front of her dress. She releases her hand from his face and leans in closer to inspect it. She feels terrible for him.

'They probably wouldn't be if they saw a dame like you in distress.' Charlie remarks and Rose stares at him with a stunned expression before it melts away into a sideways smile. She carefully places the ruins of her jacket on the side of his face and tucks a stray curl behind her ear.

'Just what are you insinuating? That I'm a damsel in distress…?' Rose begins and Charlie shakes his head.

'No, not at all. There's something different about you…' Charlie decides and Rose feels her cheeks reddening. Charlie really studies her when she turns over shoulder at the sound of the wind causing the trees to creak. However she turns back to him rather quickly and in the dull light of the streetlamps he can see the redness to her nose and cheeks. 'I know you're cold.'

'I'll live…' Rose responds and double checks the stab wounds to his abdomen, moving the jacket off of him and folding it a different way so that the cleaner parts are lying against the wounds. He's getting pale…where the hell are those useless cops, anyway? 'You're not looking so good, Charlie, come on, stay with me. Talk to me…'

'Were you a field nurse?' Charlie attempts to converse with her once more and Rose frowns at him, not understanding his words. She repeats the actions on the fabric that covers the slash on his face. She moves his hand back to hold the fabric on his stomach and covers his hand with her own.

'A field nurse?' Rose repeats and draws her legs under her and begins to dread the fact that he could possibly die. She really, really hopes someone will come soon.

'Yes, a field nurse, you know, in the War?' Charlie eyes her and Rose blinks the surprise from her face and smiles at him.

'What makes you think I'm a nurse?'

'Because you're gentle and kind. And very knowledgeable, this…gore doesn't bother you. ' Charlie informs her simply and Rose glances to her hands and frowns. She's just doing what she thinks is right, treating a wound gently is better than aggravating it, it'll do more harm than good. Rose shakes her head at him quickly. And she knows the basics about how to take care of someone that's been injured as he has, it's rudimentary, though, he needs proper care.

'No, bit before my time, the war.' Rose remarks and Charlie grins at her. Rose takes that as a promising sign that he's coherent still. She feels her mobile vibrating and she sighs. That'll most likely be Kate, ringing her once again in an attempt to woo her back to UNIT. It stops. And goes off again. Stop. Start. Stop.

'The war was before your time?' Charlie wonders and Rose nods her head. She nearly tosses her mobile when it rings again. 'Something in that sentence doesn't add up, doll.'

'I am not going to tell you how old I am, Charlie,' Rose answers with a smile and checks her watch. Ten minutes have passed since she rang the police. Useless still. 'I have to have a bit of mystery to surround myself with.'

'That won't be hard for you, you're very strange.' Charlie agrees and exhales, now the pain is setting in, moving anything is a chore.

'Am I now? I never thought myself a mystery or strange. I have always thought of myself as not easy to define. That I have a wandering mind and that I'm not anything that you think I am.' Rose answers with a firm tone. And yet, she could have easily told him something else. However he had this quality about him that made her want to be truthful.

After all she introduced herself as Rose. She hasn't gone by Rose since she left the parallel world. However she has no idea if Charlie actually heard her when she told him her name.

Charlie manages a strained laugh. 'I believe it. Every word you just said. But what I meant was that it's strange a dame wandering around a park alone at night. Aren't you worried?' He stops trying to sit up when she presses her free arm against his shoulder to stop him from attempting further.

'Worried about what?' Rose wonders seriously and closes her eyes as the mobile starts ringing. She's going to throttle Kate when she gets back. Charlie manages to point to their surroundings.

'A lot can happen to a pretty girl like you who's wandering around aimlessly in a park.' Charlie replies seriously and Rose smiles at him. She's actually rather touched that he's showing concern for her well-being. That had also been awhile since someone cared, of course she's more than capable of holding her own. She grows concerned when her fingers become wet again from the blood and he pales further.

'Don't worry, I can handle myself.' Rose answers with a smirk and Charlie matches hers. He covers her hand with his own and she feels the heat creep into her cheeks. His dark eyes hold hers expertly.

'Of that I have no doubt,' Charlie agrees and grits his teeth once more. Rose lets her hand drop off the slash on his face and reaches down to the bottom of her dress. Charlie manages to watch and he frowns. 'What are you…no, no don't…'

Rose manages to tear off a small piece of the hem of her dress and begins to dab the sweat from the shock he's in off his forehead. She simply shrugs. 'There will be others.' Her reply is simple and Charlie feels terrible that she's had to ruin her coat, now she's left in the cold and he's causing her to ruin her dress.

'If I make it out of this…'

'When you make it out of this.' Rose cuts him off and he nods his head absently. He winces when she presses her hand against his face. That one is quickly becoming worse than the stab wounds in his abdomen. How does that work?

'I'd like to make up this inconvenience to you.' Charlie informs her and Rose feels herself staring at him in shock. She opens and closes her mouth several times in an attempt to offer a response and she has nothing to say.

'I…have no words. I'm not easily shocked, Charlie, and you've done just that,' Rose answers truthfully and Charlie offers a smile. The vibrating starts again. Charlie closes his eyes and Rose reaches for her mobile so she can shut Kate up. 'Charlie, come on, you gotta stay with me. Please, come on.'

'I'm listening…' He answers quietly and Rose turns over her shoulder to see if some help is on the way. She doesn't know if she'd be able to carry him to find help without putting him at further risk to bleed out.

'Good, excuse me, for a moment, I'm just gonna take this.' Rose sighs and Charlie nods his head weakly. Rose gives his arm a tight squeeze willing him through this. She can't imagine the pain he's in and very nearly contemplates popping back to London to grab him something in the interim, however she doesn't want to leave him alone.

'Do whatever you want, doll.'

'Kate…hello, wanna give me a damn good reason you're ringing me this early in the morning?' Rose presses her lips together and switches hands out, reaching for the tattered dress hem to gently dab the sweat off Charlie's forehead. She isn't paying attention to the stare Charlie's giving her. 'It's after six in the morning. Huh, that's still not reason enough to ring me. I am rather busy, yes; my hands are full right now. I'll drop by when I feel like it; you want my services, that's fine. It is, but I'm not a consultant at six in the bloody morning. Yes, they are different. They are. In that case I'll charge double. I've had experience dealing with them yes, and I'll come see you when I'm ready. Word of advice if you do decide to poke the bear, don't antagonise them, they get a little…violent. And seriously, don't ring me again, yeah? Good.'

'Rough day?' Charlie murmurs and Rose deposits the phone back into the front of her dress. Rose glances down to Charlie and smiles half-heartedly.

'You don't even know the half of it,' Rose inhales deeply and sighs. She turns over her shoulder when she begins to hear the faint sound of sirens Rose breathes a sigh of relief next. 'Well look at that, finally.'

'The entire force is somewhat of a joke.' Charlie responds and Rose laughs softly. He rather likes the sound of her laugh. And she does have one of the prettiest smiles he's seen, it's a shame they won't see one another after tonight. She'll probably head home to England and he'll stay bound to New York. He desperately wants to keep in touch with her.

'I can see that. I'm so sorry you've had to wait so long, Charlie, I can't imagine how much pain you're in…'

'Company hasn't been so bad,' Charlie answers and she smiles at him. 'I'm sorry you've had to ruin a coat and a dress.'

'Don't worry about it, I'm not even slightly mad.' Rose insists and she can see the relief pass across his eyes.

A police car comes to a screeching halt in front of them. The headlights are so bright that Rose covers her face with her free hand when she turns over. The car doors open and two men get out on either side. They begin to approach her and Rose can see the sleep that still clings to them heavily. Their uniforms are wrinkled and they slowly yawn. Rose arches her eyebrow as an archaic ambulance arrives next.

'You the skirt that called in the stabbing?' A man with a New Jersey accent, burly exterior, a mess of untamed black hair and tired blue eyes inquires. He seems dismissive of the entire ordeal and annoyed that someone had dared call him out to do his job. She also doesn't take kindly to being referred to as a skirt, so she decides to end that before it gets out of hand.

'I am the _woman_ that called in an attempted murder, yes.' Rose clarifies and the ambulance operators exit and skulk towards them. Rose turns back to Charlie and he's grinning ear to ear at her.

'You tell 'em, doll.'

'Whatever it is, whoever you are, where's the victim?' The man demands and Rose moves herself to kneel by Charlie's head. She doesn't let pressure off of the slash across his face and she leans forward to ensure he's keeping adequate pressure on the stab wounds.

The second man, slightly younger than the first officer approaches Rose carefully. He looks Irish, neatly kept hair and while he appears to be just as tired, he seems to take a bit more interest in her victim. Except when he notices who exactly has been stabbed he scoffs and elbows his captain in the side, pointing to Charlie. Rose frowns.

'Huh, I'm sorry you saved his life, miss, you should have left him there to die,' The man does have a pronounced Dublin accent. Rose gapes at him while Charlie starts to laugh bitterly. The Irish cop turns to the Jersey accented one. 'We should have driven slower.'

'Excuse me?!' Rose cries and the ambulance men have gathered to stand beside the police. No one makes an attempt to come close to her. It's like she's treating someone that's deathly ill and they don't want to catch what he has.

'And who have you managed to piss off this time, eh, Charles?' The Irish cop inquires and Charlie glares at him. He grits his teeth as he attempts to answer him.

'You should know. Ask your pal Marino.'

'Don't go besmirching the good name of the police, Charles. Who are they going to believe, anyway, if you bring up those accusations, eh?' The man with the Jersey accent wonders. Charlie angrily directs his gaze to the sky knowing he had a very good point. Rose decides to intervene.

'Your job as of right now is to get this man some medical attention, and investigate this crime!'

'I don't take orders from no skirt,' The Jersey cop informs her and Rose very nearly gets to her feet to make her point known. They have no right denying Charlie help because he, to them, seems to be a less than reputable character. Even if that's true it doesn't matter to her. 'Besides, Charles, you don't remember who attacked you, isn't that right?'

Rose lowers her gaze to Charlie in shock as he remains quiet and Rose wonders if he really did know them. She presses her lips together and tilts her head. 'Charlie…is that true?'

'I'm sorry, Rose…' Charlie replies and Rose closes her eyes. It doesn't matter, he still needs help, or he'll die. From the way it sounds it's almost like the police had a hand in this attack on him and now they're blackmailing him! Or they were paid to turn a blind eye to those that did attack him. That just makes her feel sick. It's lawlessness here.

'Whatever happened, it still doesn't mean you get to deny him care. Do your bloody jobs or as I said on the phone, I'll have each and every one of your jobs.' Rose informs them and the four men exchange looks before the ambulance operators reluctantly walk towards Charlie and Rose exhales from her victory.

She's immensely annoyed with the lot of them. They slowly bring Charlie to his feet and Rose stands with them, keeping her hand on his face as he gives her an appreciative smile. It soon dissolves into pain as he grits his teeth and Rose can see the dark path of blood on the jacket appear and she bites her lip. He exhales quickly from the pain and then inhales sharply.

'Thank you…' Charlie manages and Rose lets her hand drop from his face and the torn jacket hangs limply in her hand. The antiquated paramedics are rough with him and she can't stand it.

'For the love of god would you please be careful with him?' Rose questions desperately and the paramedics stare at her before they start towards the ambulance. 'Oh, and tell whatever doctor treats him to check for a concussion, broken or sprained ribs and…' She pauses when she finds the four men are staring deeply at her as if she isn't supposed to have that knowledge. 'What?'

The paramedics walk by her and she widens her eyes when she notices the blood on the back of his shirt, the holes there that reveal more stab wounds to his back. She glances down to the ground he had been lying on and can see the dark patch there.

'How do you know what we need to be doing?' One paramedic stops and Rose is shaken from her shock about the wounds Charlie had been hiding.

'I was a field nurse,' Rose lies and Charlie begins to laugh at her fib, she suppresses the urge to laugh with him. She carefully approaches one of the cops, the Irish one hoping they'd have a tiny connection given where they're both from. 'Do you have a pen and paper?'

The Irish cop begins to fish around for his notepad and pen. When he retrieves the pen he hands it to Rose and then fishes out his pad from his pocket. Rose smiles at him and begins to hastily write down the symptoms of a concussion for Charlie, just in case they don't tell the doctor, and tears the paper off passing the pad and pen back to the cop who deposits them, he eyes the Jersey accented cop and shrugs when he receives a dirty look from him. The Irish cop looks at the ink pen she'd just return to him, sticky with blood and he wipes it on his pants, making an unimpressed face.

Rose trots to where the paramedics have Charlie sitting on the open tail of the car as they attempt to find gauze to bandage him up. He has the one eye that isn't swollen shut closed but when he hears the click of her heels he opens the good one and frowns.

'Rose?'

'Take this,' She whispers to him and Charlie reaches out his free hand, opening it and giving it a quick read. He frowns up at her. 'If you start to feel any one of those go back to the doctor, please don't ignore them.'

Charlie deposits the slip of paper into his pocket and Rose peers to the side of his face and inspects the slash. It'll scar for sure. 'I will, thank you…'

'You're very welcome, Charlie.'

He's tapped on the shoulder and Charlie turns around to nod at the paramedics. They lift him back up to sit inside the ambulance and Rose smiles at him. 'Think about my offer, eh?'

'I'll think about it, Charlie…' Rose answers truthfully and he smiles at her before the door is shut and he's driven off from her sight. Rose turns to the cops as they pile back into the car and the Irish one leans over to her.

'You need a ride, miss? We'll give you one.' He offers and the Jersey cop angrily nudges him in the side.

'Hardly, I don't trust you. I'll find my own way home, thanks.'

'You're the one running the risk.' The Jersey accented cop informs her haughtily and Rose folds her arms at him.

'I'm okay with that.' Rose responds simply and starts to walk off, attempting to find a decent place to make the jump back to present day London. She needs a shower and a bed, her hands still caked and sticky with Charlie's blood.

The cops linger until she disappears from their sight and the Irish cop turns over to the New Jersey one. 'What do you think? Is she a moll? You think she's _his_ moll?'

'If she ain't one now she'll be one yet, you mark my words, Colin. She will be.' The New Jersey cop surmises and begins to reverse their car, swinging it left and it spins around forward.

'That's a shame if she is, it'll bring nothing but trouble for her.' Colin sighs and they head on back to their headquarters on Staten Island. Maybe now they can get some sleep.

He wonders if they'll be seeing more of the blonde girl in the future. Hopefully if they do she'll have smartened up and done something more productive with her life instead of hanging around lowlifes.


	4. Chapter 4: Present Day & 1930

'All right people, you have your assignments, any questions, direct them at Marion or Bill.'

Rose pushes the chair back and stands; very glad this early morning meeting has finally ended. She had forgotten to eat this morning and is starving now. She is feeling hot in this suit she has had to wear to seem more professional now that she's a consultant and she wonders why she thought dressing in this suit would give off that air. She had wanted to make a good impression, perhaps. Hopefully it worked and next time she can show up in her much more comfortable cargo pants and three quarter length sleeved shirt.

That and she didn't like the gaze Bill had on her the entire time Kate had been explaining their missions, or when Rose had gone up to speak about her knowledge of the Onta and their history, including what had led them up to this point. A sad history and an infuriating one. Especially since the criminals hadn't been caught, and essentially the Onta they seek is one of the only ones left. She hopes with everything that the Proclamation will find those responsible for poisoning and unleashing biological horrors onto the Onta's home planet Manitou.

The room clears out and Rose closes her eyes. So the hunt begins. She should be leading the groups, not Bill; god only knows what he'll do when he finds him. That's why she's determined to find this Onta first so she can get him under her care before turning him over to Kate, because at least if she gets him to Kate first, Kate will keep this Onta safe, he isn't like this normally but the virus he's contracted mutates him into something unrecognisable, a shell of his former self. Rose knows she won't let anything happen to the Onta while they look for a cure to make him well again. She needs to get to him first, though, that's the first obstacle. She has no idea where he could be hiding; it's near impossible to find anyone with nothing more than vague snapshots from CCTVs poised around London.

The problem to her, she thinks, as she leans against the exterior wall to the meeting room and checking out those that are gathering up the papers and the low murmur of people going over points, is that that they could overwhelm the Onta before they get a chance to earn his trust. She wants to do this alone.

She's off in thought, waiting for her chance to speak to Kate. Problem is, he's monopolising her time. If she has to wait much longer, she'll forgo speaking to Kate of her concerns with who she's chosen for this mission, she doesn't want Bill's increasingly suspicious hands on this little project, certain that something with go awry and he'll end up killing this Onta for sure. No matter how much Kate seems enamoured with him, she isn't sure why, must be the accent, one of them has to remain level headed, and she since hasn't fallen victim to his pursuits of her, it looks like she wins by default. She glances at her watch. She has to go, so now she strides towards Kate who is still engrossed in conversation with Bill. When he seems her approaching, he gives a once over, twice, and a little grin. She supresses her disgust.

'Kate, got a second?' Rose wonders and she nods her head, excusing herself from Bill's side and following her outside the conference room. Kate folds her arms, Rose can tell she's expecting a show. Well good, she needs to see how awful he is.

'You look very professional, Marion. A nice change from the cargo pants.' Kate attempts a compliment and Rose glances down to her skirt and blazer. She frowns as she locks stares with Kate. She supposes that's a flattering remark.

'Uh, thanks, I think. Anyway, listen, please. I know you know that I'm working with Jack Harkness on this matter…'

Kate interrupts her. 'Hardly necessary. You know we have this covered. I wish you'd work with Bill on the recapture of this Onta, Marion, the two of you would make an excellent team.'

'That's your opinion.' Rose counters evenly and Kate nods her head.

'Yes, it is my opinion.'

'You're welcome to force it on me if you wish but know that that means I'll be dropping this assignment before you have a chance to the words out of your mouth. I don't work with him. At all. You asked me here for my help and opinion on the matter since I am most familiar with the Onta. As such I am free to bring in my own outside help. And Jack's the best in the business.' Rose answers stiffly and Kate sighs in defeat. Another round won for her.

'Fine, all right, he'll be permitted to attend meetings at your behest whenever you require it.' Kate answer impatiently. Rose smiles at her.

'Thank you.' She turns to head out of the office, retrieving her mobile from her jacket pocket. Kate takes a step forward.

'Are you leaving already?'

'Yes, you can reach me on my mobile but Jack and I are going to go through some theories we have on how to approach the Onta when we come across him and then how to proceed from there.' Rose explains and notices the missed call from Jack. Damn, he must already be at the restaurant and has been waiting for some time before he's called her wondering what's happened and she couldn't answer it because the damn meeting ran late, it's okay, he only called about five minutes ago. Kate doesn't miss the impatience flash across her eyes.

'You couldn't invite him here for that so you could have shared any information with us right away?' Kate questions and folds her arms. Rose closes her eyes and brings her heeled foot to scratch the back of her calf, trying to do something that will disperse her annoyance.

'What and treat him to the finest sandwiches the vending machine has to offer? Please, Kate, I think I can do better.' Rose answers and slips the mobile back into her jacket pocket.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Kate laughs at the comment. Indeed, who knows how long those sandwiches have been in that machine, it's becoming the office joke that they are like hotdogs one would find at the cinemas. Rotating slowly, there for ages. She's caught a number of senior members hazing new recruits on a dare of that nature. She doesn't want the PR nightmare that would accompany the newspaper headlines about someone expiring over eating toxic sandwiches there since the 40s.

'A valid point, I suppose. Fine, go, but please ring me if you two think of anything that will be helpful.' Kate reminds her and Rose feels as though she's a student getting chided by a teacher. She takes a step back and nods, just to keep her quiet, but feels she must add another reminder.

'Kate, don't forget…freelance.'

Kate sighs and nods her head. How _could_ she forget? She still recalls Marion storming into her office and throwing her gun and badge on her desk, announcing she had quit and not to contact her again. Kate barely had time to register the word resigned. When she had chased Marion out into the courtyard, pleading for an answer as to why, she'll never forget the look Marion had given her. A look of repressed shame, embarrassment and anger and had uttered only four words to her before striding from the courtyard leaving Kate to ascertain what in the hell had happened and just what The Ruby Jade Incident was.

Once she found out she did understand her reaction. She wanted to apologise but Marion wouldn't even entertain the thought of hearing those words again. 'Yes, so you keep reminding me.'

'Don't want you to forget, is all,' Rose answers and walks down the halls, Kate drops her arms to the side. She opens her mouth to call to her but Rose beats her to it. 'Yes, I will let you know what Jack and I are up to.'

There are not further words exchanged between the two. Rose strides down the hall, descending the stairs, smiling at the receptionist Marla while she rings Jack to let him know that she's on her way.

'Ah,' He states once Rose has given his account of things. 'No worries, the waitress Star and I have been getting really acquainted.' Jack responds into the receiver while Rose signals a cab to stop. She gets in and gives the address to the driver.

'Her name isn't really Star, is it? Or that the nickname you've already given her?' Rose questions with a smirk on her face.

'The brightest Star in the room,' He teases and Rose rolls her eyes at the cab's interior. 'No seriously, that's her name.'

'Huh, well. Okay,' Rose sighs and glances around the cab, sighing in relief believing that she had misplaced her wallet, thankfully she spots beside her. She turns to look out the window. 'I should be there in about…seven, no six minutes.'

'Great, I hope you don't mind, I ordered something small while I waited, didn't eat breakfast this morning.' Jack informs her and Rose glares at the person on a bike that had darted out into traffic causing the cab driver to halt the car unexpectedly and Rose to lurch forward. She'd better buckle up.

'No, no not at all. I'm starving myself.'

'Want me to order something for you? What do you feel like?'

'I don't know, nothing heavy, uh, salad.' Rose decides and then becomes indecisive. She frowns.

'That's vague, Rose, salads are numerous in variation.' Jack responds seriously and Rose leans back against the seat, that's so true. Okay so then, how to narrow it down?

'Surprise me.' Rose replies and Jack grumbles playfully into the phone.

'Dressing on the side?' He presumes and Rose smoothes down her skirt, running her hand absently over her knee.

'What would I do without you?' Rose muses and Jack chuckles into the phone.

'I'm not sure, and I don't want to find out. ETA?' He wonders and Rose glances out at the window, traffic has reached a standstill thanks to the lights being red.

'About five minutes.'

'Okay, back of the restaurant, just look for the girl with the yellow hair that always sticks close to the table.'

'Oh, you work fast. And don't we normally call yellow hair blonde?' Rose questions and wills the light to change so they can get a move on. The more she's been thinking about food, the more ravenous she becomes.

'No, I mean her hair is actually yellow, like someone pulled out the Crayola's and coloured her hair yellow.' Jack answers and Rose arches her eyebrow.

'Huh. Okay, well…when is she going home with you, after her shift?' Rose teases and Jack feigns a laugh in her ear.

'No, busy tonight. Another time.'

'Well, best of luck but I'm pulling up now.' Rose informs him and passes her fare into the cab driver's hand. He gives her a curt nod and Rose smiles at him. She can see the storm clouds moving in, shrouding the sunlight. So much for a nice day.

'Okay, then I'm hanging up.'

'Okay fine.'

'Good, bye.'

'Bye.' Rose disconnects her call and opens her wallet, shoving her mobile inside and opens the restaurant door. She spies Jack at the back end of the restaurant closer to the kitchens. No doubt the waitress did that so she could keep a close eye on her new eye candy. She embraces Jack tightly and they sit together.

'I ordered for you.' Jack informs her and Rose smiles.

'Great. I'm starved, did you get my emails?'

Jack pulls out a small laptop and opens them up, pulling up the multiple attachments she had sent to him throughout her meeting with Kate and the taskforce.

'Okay, let's get started.' He opens the first attachment and they stick their heads together.

* * *

><p>Just under two hours later, they still haven't gotten anywhere closer to actually finding this Onta other than scouting around on foot. All the technology in the world would be uselessly applied to this situation if they have no parameters to work within, who knows where he could be hiding. Both Rose and Jack have come to the conclusion that this Onta is still hiding somewhere in London, it's just determining where in London he could be. Jack leans back in the chair, stretching while Rose brushes aside a piece of paper in favour for another. The images printed from the CCTVs haven't been all that helpful. Grainy images show a mass that could be identified as the Onta, UNIT confirmed it so, that's all they have to go on. It's just making this process very frustrating.<p>

Jack leans forward and takes another sip of his drink. He glances to Rose who is still pouring over the details of the CCTV footage. She absently sips from the water in her hands. 'So, where did you get to a few days ago?'

Rose blinks and looks up. Oops. 'Huh? Oh, er, I went to 1929.' She confesses and feels the heat creep into her cheeks for reasons unknown. It wasn't like she had been up to no good. She just went to see a show, that's all, and save a man's life, a typical night for her.

'Yeah? Why 1929?' Jack wonders. Rose doesn't hear any sounds of indignation in his voice, she's glad for that.

'I dunno, I just picked the year randomly. I just…needed an escape. I was, still am actually, stressed beyond anything. I just needed one night to myself where I didn't have to be me. What better place than the borough of Staten Island? The show was terrible, but I didn't have to think for two hours.'

'You thought after?' Jack surmises and Rose tosses him a sideways look and feels her lips curl into a smile.

'You know it.'

'Well, I'm glad it provided a reprieve for you.' Jack replies and she puts her arm around his shoulder, drawing him close. He rests his head on hers and they're silent, off in thought, wondering how they are going to succeed in a task that seems near impossible.

'Yeah, I need another,' Rose admits and he smirks at her. Rose widens her eyes. 'Oh, like a road trip in America. That sounds fun.'

'Along California's coast?' Jack presumes and Rose tilts her head, gripping his hand tightly.

'We should do it.'

'When we have time.' Jack answers without missing a beat and Rose sighs, resting her head on his shoulders in a mock defeat. He smiles and nudges her and Rose props herself up on her elbow.

'Okay well, since you, the dream smasher, have successfully smashed my dream, let's focus. Jack, if you were an Onta, scared out of your wits, sick and possibly dying, without a home to go to, without someone to help, nowhere to go and stranded on a strange planet, what would you do?'

Jack is quiet, thinking about all the possibilities before he sighs. 'I'd hide. Hide away until the end.'

'But the sickness, it changes him, that much we've gathered from the blurry CCTV pictures, he has to fight off the cravings.' Rose reminds him and Jack stares at the picture of the Onta, morphed into the creature that had been spotted around Mayfair the last couple of nights. Or perhaps it's closer to a week now, he isn't sure.

At first it seemed harmless and easy enough to explain off, the first reports had come from drunken twenty somethings from the local pubs. Easy enough to sweep it under the rug and never mention it. The public didn't worry and they were free to continue investigating behind the curtain. Until two bodies had shown up one morning in an alleyway. Then they had to pay attention and secretly begin investigating publicly. UNIT had taken over and Rose had become involved because this Kate Stewart had requested her skills, even though she had already quit and become freelance. He had gotten tied to this tangled mess because she wanted a partner to help her and adamantly refused the one Kate had tried to partner her with. Said she hated him more than anything. So, here he is.

Besides he and Rose work exceptionally well together, so he doesn't mind and truthfully he isn't doing much right now anyway, this case is a very welcome distraction. Plus it's more time with Rose, she's been here and there so often that they can't seem to agree on a date to get together and catch up. The only time they managed to she had fallen asleep on the drive home from the restaurant, he had to carry her up to her flat that night. He didn't hear a peep from her until nearly eighteen hours after the incident, apologising profusely for her error.

She seems better now, a bit more rested than past times. Which is good, he does worry for her, worries that she takes on too much because she has a terrible inability to say no. Not that long ago she had just gotten back from Paris and then Moscow claiming that she had met some wonderful person while there. Sad thing she neglected to fill him in on more. He puts the thought from his mind.

'He's hiding, somewhere we won't think to look for him.' Jack decides and Rose agrees, staring at the map of Mayfair and it's surrounding areas attempting to ascertain a likely path the Onta would have taken.

'If he remained behind he's putting himself at risk.'

'But at the same time he doesn't know people are looking for him. Why venture out into the unknown, it's scarier. Why not stay where he's used to his surroundings.' Rose reminds him and Jack leans back in the chair, folding his arms as they stare at the mess of paper in front of them. He runs his hand through his hair trying to think of something that could be helpful.

'With the changes brought on by the experiments and poisoning, it makes me wonder if he's looking for a way out.' Jack comments and Rose rests her elbow on the table staring at Jack as she mentally tells him to go on.

'But think about this. If the Onta is scared enough he has his last line of defence, open a small tear in time and jump back. It can be used only once and only backward. He hasn't done that yet. Why not?' Rose wonders and Jack rubs his face with his hands. This is the problem they have worried about. The tear and escape.

'Would we even know?' Jack counters and Rose leans back in her chair, crossing her legs as she rubs her eyes, growing weary from the text. She stifles her yawn.

'UNIT has the entire area where he was last spotted under surveillance. If he does open a small tear, their equipment should pick it up.' Rose replies and Jack nods his head at her. He waves Star over for the bill.

Rose begins to gather the papers while he takes another glance at the pictures. 'If we find him, do you think he'll even be in any sort of mental state to fully understand that we mean him no harm? His mind could be nearly dominated from the poison, or at least eating it away.'

'They're good people, there has to be some residual goodness to him. Maybe it simply affects him…like turning on a light switch.' Rose offers and Jack reaches for his wallet, Rose gives him an impatient look as he shakes his head at her when she had attempted to pay.

'I dunno. He might not have control of it. It could over take him.' Jack reminds her and Rose sighs, gathering up the paper as Star returns with a receipt. She smiles coyly at Jack and ignores Rose entirely. She sighs at him when he flips over the receipt to show her that Star had written down her number. Rose merely shakes her head, unable to stop herself from smiling.

'I think I'm going to have a little wander down around the area where we last saw him. Maybe I could find something around the area to point us in the right direction.' Rose decides and holds out her arms for Jack to place the folders in. He does so and then snatches his jacket from the back of the chair and dashes out to catch Rose who is waiting for him. The wind has picked up greatly; it could down pour any moment now.

'I think you should let me go with you.' Jack replies and Rose flashes him an impatient look. He merely shrugs.

'I don't plan on calling him out if I spot him, even if I do, I'm just gonna try talking to him. If he flees I won't follow. I'll just regroup, try again.' Rose swears and knows that Jack will not be bought off by that flimsy lie. She's right.

'No, just wait, we'll look together in the morning.'

Rose sighs impatiently. 'Fine,' However Jack doesn't believe her and he gives her a look that tells her seriously not to go. She folds her arms. 'Okay, okay, I won't.'

'Good, thank you.'

They wait patiently for the cab to come and collect them, even though she continues exchanging words with Jack bouncing between work and his need to know how 1929 had been, Rose is still planning her night. What could go wrong with a simple observation?

* * *

><p>She should have listened to Jack, what the hell had she been thinking? She takes a careful step back, holding her breath as she does so. The Onta looms above her, staring at her with his sick eyes. Once an inviting shade of green have become poisoned with spots of red. He snarls at her and Rose presses herself against the wall in the alleyway. She exhales her fear and turns her head to the side as he leans closer inspecting her, bringing his snout and jagged teeth to her cheek. Rose is certain that he can hear her heart thumping loudly in her chest, hell she can feel it. She isn't scared of him, per say, it's the unknown. He had fought like hell to maintain control, up until the changes started, they had been having a constructive conversation, but he must have started to get fearful which she is certain had triggered the change.<p>

The Onta are an interesting species. She's attempting to keep her mind focused on anything but the unknown as he continues to inspect her, she's hopeful he'll deem her friendly and nonthreatening. That could make things easier. She swallows. Right. The Onta.

Their planet had become the victim to an intergalactic company that dealt in pharmaceuticals in a quadrant of space that Earth would not discover for many millennia. Rose had unfortunately had the please of meeting the head of the company, Cytexgal, while she had been investigating them at the Proclamation. She couldn't find any information to make the accusations that they were taking whole planets in different sections of space and testing on them, just to see their products results.

She's certain that is who is responsible for this mess, there had been no survivors up until this point, and Rose has a funny feeling that Cytexgal will be sending people to ensure that there aren't any survivors after they've learned that an Onta from Manitou is still alive, altered drastically from what he once was and worse, managed to escape to Earth, hitchhiking, essentially until there wasn't anywhere else to go. That's when the trouble started. People are always drawn to the strange and unknown. She's certain that people discovered that he isn't one of them, a human, and had started to harass them, leading to the deaths.

Given the altered stay of his mind and physically, those that engage him should really be careful. When Rose had first set eyes on him, unchanged before the metamorphosis happened, he really reminded Rose of a bipedal humanoid Komodo Dragon. Intelligent and articulate. He looked strong to her then, stronger now, but he had been pleasant enough with her, confided his fears in her. He shows her where those people have caused a crude pair of reptilian wings to develop, he confesses how much it hurts him, how when the change takes over him, it hurts and when it leaves his body he aches and is in pain for days on in afterward.

That's what had triggered the fear response. She told him she had understood and that she wanted to help him, he had believed her. And she believed that she had this wrapped up, but when she had informed him it meant that he'd have to follow her to UNIT or that UNIT would have to come to them to be collected he had vehemently protested. And that's when she saw the veins stain black, flowering out to cover his body, his neck, temple are arms, the parts she could observe, grew darker and darker and the once green eyes became stained with red. He warned her to leave but she had attempted to win him over, to help him through his metamorphosis. He had flexed the wings, ignoring the pain he's certain his brain was telling him to feel.

Which is how she ended up in her current predicament. Cornered in an alleyway with a sick Onta that is inspecting her carefully. She exhales and it causes him to lean in closer. She so desperately wants to shut her eyes but doesn't, she isn't sure why. Finally he pulls away from her and takes a small step back and Rose reaches into her pocket, pulling out a small device she hopes to slip on him that will track his movements. She has to get close enough.

'Wait, please don't go,' Rose tells him and takes a cautious step forward. He stops and watches her, allows her to stand in front of him. Rose grips the tracker tightly, she waits for her moment. 'Please stay, we can get you help. Right here. Forget about the building. We'll come to you.'

It doesn't illicit confidence in the Onta because he lunges at Rose and pushes her down. She tumbles back and hits her head against the brick wall hard, she sees spots. She also sees the Onta standing over her, and he reaches down to pick her up by the throat, squeezing her neck so hard it's a wonder her trachea hasn't snapped. He brings her closer so he can stare at her in the eye, and Rose squeezes hers shut, letting one hand dangle, the one with the tracker and the other one is gripping onto his forearm, pleading silently for him to stop. She attempts to inhale but it stopped, the air can't get in past his grip on her throat and she begins to feel light headed. She moves herself forward, hoping to place the tracker on him before she passes out from lack of oxygen or he kills her dead. Voices echo around them suddenly and the Onta becomes distracted, turning over his shoulder and breathing heavily, noises from the flats above them cause him to glance upward, trying to pinpoint that noise that is making him uncomfortable.

In his confusion, Rose reaches forward and manages to slip the tracking device onto the tattered shirt he's been forced to wear while he continues staring up at the flats. He doesn't look to her when she sticks it to him and hopes the spot she's placed it won't go noticed by him for some time.

He flinches as hoots and hollers of victory are heard. Many male voices are heard cheering and calling the name of a football player over and over again. His grip loosens. He's scared. Rose can finally inhale, the air sneaking past his grip and into her lungs. She tries to cough but it comes out as a splutter. Without warning he drops her and she lands hard on the ground, coughing violently as he steps away from her, flexing the wings as if to instil fear into her. It doesn't work and she can see him flinch.

His eyes dart to the noise that engulfs them and Rose coughs longer just as a bright tear is opened up behind the Onta and she widens her eyes. He's going to jump. Weakly she holds her hand out in a meagre attempt to stop him, she tries pressing her hand to her throat to see if it could help her speak to him but as she tries to get the words to come out, it's merely a collection of strained sounds. She tries again, and there is nothing. She gives up and she can only shake her head at him, hoping at least to convey her want to keep him here so she can help him. Instead he lowers the wings and steps back into the bluish white light. The tear closes and Rose is left alone.

* * *

><p>'I don't know what you were thinking doing that. What were you trying to prove? Now he's gone, honestly, Marion I expected better of you.' Kate states exasperated and loudly. Rose has her arms folded leaning against the closed door of Kate's office. She is not about to feel bad so Kate can scold her all she wants. Jack had already done that for her.<p>

'Are you done?' Rose wonders sarcastically, it's still incredibly hard to make her out. Her voice is a damaged whisper. The bruising is violent and angry. No signs of anything broken in her throat or neck, she's very lucky.

Kate looks to the ceiling as if indulging her request with a bit of sarcasm. She sighs audibly and Rose rolls her eyes, reaching for her device clipped to her favourite pair of cargo pants. It feels much better to wear than that damned skirt from yesterday.

'Yes. I suppose so. I'll be damned if I'm having my men and women doing more work because of you. You made this mess; you'll clean it up.' Kate informs her dryly and Rose presses her lips together, trying to ensure she doesn't say something stupid and out of place. Instead she reaches to her pants, unclipping the device and holding it up. The screen faces Kate and she leans in, studying with a tight-lipped frown.

'I've already cleaned up my mess, as you put it,' Rose replies flatly and Kate crosses her arms, waiting for her to go on. 'I know where he is. Exactly where he is. I managed to place a tracking device on him.' Rose explains and Kate widens her eyes. Rose has to suppress her smirk.

'You're serious?'

'Dead serious. He's in Manhattan in 1930.' Rose states proudly and Kate's face breaks out into a smile.

'My god, you're brilliant. How did you manage…well, it doesn't matter, I think I know anyway. So, when are you leaving?' Kate questions and Rose clips her device back to her pants and eyes Kate coyly.

'As soon as detention is done.'

Kate smirks at her comment and motions to the door, her hand pointing. 'Then dismissed, Smith.'

'Thank you.'

'I trust you'll handle things differently this time?' Kate wonders as Rose's hand hovers over the door handle. She inwardly bits her tongue and exhales slowly. She turns around to Kate and smiles as best she can, keeping the annoyance to a minimal and out of her face.

'Yes, I'll be jumping as soon as I get a bag packed. I'll be staying at a hotel in Manhattan and taking my time with the capture. It won't turn into a debacle if that's what you're worried about. I will keep you in loop about what I'm doing, where I'm going and what I've found.' Rose replies irritated and swallows the anger.

'See that you do.' Kate replies seriously and Rose doesn't give her a reply, not trusting what she could say to her. Instead she opens the door with a swift motion and strides from the office, walking down the halls and notices that Bill's office door is open.

She knows he's in there, he leans out from around the desk, she can see him out of her peripheral vision, watching her carefully but she doesn't acknowledge him. No he infuriates her beyond anything. As she comes to the stairs she can see Jack waiting on the chairs, reading another newspaper left at the receptionist's desk and when he hears her descending the stairs, he glances up, smiling before his attention is turned back to the paper.

'How was detention?'

'Ha, ha, you're so funny.' Rose responds and her laugh is strained. Jack shakes his head behind the paper. Rose doesn't miss it.

'I know I am,' Jack answers and flips the paper down to stare at her. 'How'd it go?'

Rose drops down on the chair beside him, smiling at Marla when their eyes meet. 'Oh you know, good I think. She can't say anything bad about me, I know where he is.' Rose rubs her throat instinctively. Jack sets the paper down and turns to Rose.

'You work quick,' Jack responds and stands. Rose follows suit and merely smiles at him sweetly. 'Let's go. We gotta get you back to Manhattan.'

Rose follows him out the door with a frown. 'You…aren't going to tag along?' Rose wonders and truthfully had been practicing what to say all night so that when she suggested that he stay behind to keep an eye on things for her here, it appears he's beaten her to it. It's actually a bit of a relief.

'No, I figure I can stay here and watch things for you,' Jack admits and glances over his shoulder as they cross the courtyard and wade through traffic. 'Truthfully, Rose, I can see why you have your guard up around that Hennessey guy. He doesn't exactly radiate trust.'

'I know!' Rose cries, her voice breaking and clears her throat. 'I'm glad I'm not the only one.'

'Right, I want to keep an eye on him.' Jack responds and Rose nods her head, pulling out her mobile and begins searching for a number that turns out to be trickier to pull up. Finally after multiple searches and pulling up old newspaper clippings she finds the number she's looking for. She punches it in.

'I think that's a great idea, it'll ensure he behaves himself,' Rose answers and sits on the closest bench. Jack sits beside her and watches UNIT from afar. 'Yes, hello Elijah, I'd like to make a reservation? A suite, please,' Rose turns to Jack who is shaking his head at her; she covers the mouthpiece and frowns. 'What I want to be comfortable if I'm spending who knows how long there. Oh, that's great. Thanks, I'll take it. How much? Perfect. Yes, I'll be arriving in a few hours. Great. Goodbye.'

'Done?' Jack questions and Rose smiles, slipping her mobile back into her pocket. They get up and Jack hails a cab, they pile in and Rose gives the driver her address. 'Are you sure you're ready for this?' Jack wonders and Rose flashes him a look that says he's the last person she expected to doubt her. He merely wraps his arm around her shoulders and draws her closer, placing a kiss on her head. 'I'm not going to say I'm worried about you, that's a given, I just want you to be careful. Rose, I'm not sure what I'd do if I lost you. You're one of the most important people in the world to me.'

Rose smiles at him, resting her head on his shoulder. 'I know, you know I feel the same, Jack you're all I have left in this world. So, don't worry. I'll be careful, I promise.'

'Good, and if you feel like you need more help…' Jack begins but Rose, sensing what he'll say next, interrupts him. She takes his hand tightly in hers.

'I know, I'll come back to get you and we'll get this done together.' Rose replies and he smiles, rubbing her arm.

'That's right. You bet we will.' Jack agrees and the driver pulls onto Rose's road, stopping outside her flat. Together they pile out and Rose searches for her key, finding it after a good amount of time has passed and she opens the door, telling Jack to forgive the mess.

He looks around the pristine condition. The only thing he can see that may constitute that remark is a suitcase that's been left on a couch in the parlour, open and apparently dug through several times. He strolls to the kitchen looking for something to drink and he pulls the fridge open, the shelves are bare and he blinks, just a lone beer from the pack he most likely brought over the last time. Jack frowns. It'll do.

'Sorry, Jack, there probably isn't anything to eat,' Rose calls from her bedroom and he walks down the hall until he stops in her doorway leaning on the frame. She's frantically trying to pack and entire wardrobe into a single duffle bag. Jack takes a long drink from the bottle, Rose glances up. 'Well, malted barley and hops do count for something, I guess.'

'How do you even live?' Jack teases and Rose throws a shirt at him with a smirk.

'Carefully. And on a lot of takeaway.' She confesses and Jack laughs, tossing the shirt back to her in which she deposits back into her duffle bag.

The rest of the late afternoon passes quickly and once Rose is satisfied in what she's packed, technology carefully hidden along with her weapons. She slings the bags over her shoulder and Jack hands her the small grocery bag with her food in it that he had insisted she take with her so that she could eat while getting herself settled in the suite. He embraces her fiercely and Rose places a kiss on his cheek.

'Call me when you get in, so at least I have some reassurance.' Jack replies and Rose nods her head quickly. And he wishes her well. She does as well, and to keep on keeping on. He promises her he will, keep an extra careful eye on the man who has roused suspicion from them both and Rose believes that with Jack watching carefully, nothing bad can happen to them.

The jump doesn't take long and the moment she's landed on West 23rd Street, she ducks into an alley and dial's Jack's number, informing him that she's arrived, the hotel is mere steps from her, she can see it, stunning and beautiful with its stained glass panels that for its balconies. The wrought iron intricacies that weave themselves to form the shapes of the platforms of the balconies. Oh, she's looking forward to this.

When the call has ended Rose picks up her bags and takes a deep breath, the air is cold, still in the thralls of winter and she takes mind when she crosses the street. Thankfully the crowds are scarce. Should be it's after ten at night here. The lobby is warm when she enters and dripping with Art Deco pieces, sculptures and decoration. As she approaches the desk, a middle-aged man in a sharp and cleaned pressed suit puts down his ink pen and smiles at her. His hair is perfectly parted to one side, slicked back and his green eyes are rather inviting. Still he seems to give off a rather cold exterior.

'Hi, I'm Rose Tyler, I rang earlier about the suite?' She wonders and carefully sets down her bags. The man nods and turns his attention to the guest registry. Rose is envious of his perfect script, not a single blot of ink anywhere. She spies her name and the man checks off her name.

'Welcome, Miss Tyler to the Hotel Chelsea. My name is Elijah, should you require anything I insist that you give our front desk a ring,' Elijah turns around to the back wall where there are hundreds of slots with keys in most of them. Hers is near the top and he pulls out the iron key, handing it to her while she hands him the money. He pushes the registry in front of her nose and she signs in a flourish her name. Strange. She hasn't signed her real name in so long she hesitated for a moment. He gives her a curt nod when she pushes the registry back to him. 'Can I ring for the bell boy to collect your bags and take them to your room, miss?'

Rose shakes her head quickly and scoops up her bags. 'Ah, no, thank you, that won't be necessary.'

Elijah gives her a funny look but nods nonetheless. He motions to the lifts a few paces in front of her. 'As you wish,' He pauses as the phone rings. He glances to Rose. 'Excuse me.' Elijah has a sigh in his voice, must be someone from the staff. After all, who would be ringing at ten at night?

'Of course.' Rose smiles at him and he nods at her, balancing the phone on his shoulder has he hastily begins to write something down. The man at the lift smiles at her and inquires as to where she is going.

'Are you sure I can't summon someone to take the bags, miss?' The man questions as she steps in with him, he shuts the brass gate, the lift doors close and Rose shakes her head.

'I'm quite all right, thank you.' Rose insists and the man gives her an uneasy nod.

When they do reach the top floor, Rose passes him a tip, which he tries to refuse as he hadn't done anything but his job in his words. Rose becomes persistent and he accepts. She smiles at him and he closes the gate, nodding at her while she walks down the hall and towards her room. Sleep does sound good.

Rose continues to walk down the polished, gleaming marble floor until she reaches the end of the hall. Two large wooden doors greet her with the numbers 1211 scripted across in an elegant fashion. Well, here goes nothing. Rose slides the key into the lock and twists it until the tumblers give way and she pushes the door open with her fingertips. She's mightily impressed with what she sees so far. Unfortunately she spots the large and inviting queen size bed, with a dark mahogany wood head board and footboard that contrast with the pristine white sheets. Oh and multiple pillows…Rose smiles and drops her bags by the door, locking it quickly and heading towards the back portion of the room where the bed lies waiting for her. She undresses in a haste, placing the key on the night table and collapses onto the bed, sinking into the comforter. She doesn't awaken but her mind does cause her become restless early in the morning. Most due to how she's going to take on this huge task and be successful.


	5. Chapter 5: 1930

This entire, stupid task of bringing this Onta back to London can go and you know what itself, Rose thinks as she slowly removes her right hand from her left arm and quickly rubs the fresh blood on her pants. Three scraggly marks run down her arm where the Onta had managed to cut through her shirt with ease. What else could go wrong this week? She lost a client in St. Petersburg because her Russian skills were still very new to her and he didn't like her accent, she had a hard time keeping up, asking him to repeat things a multitude of times so he dropped her. That ticked her off immensely but she knows he'll be back; they always come back to her.

Rose attempts to flex her arm to ensure that it isn't as deep as she thinks it is but it causes it to immediately bleed once more. She scowls and covers her arm again. It shouldn't have even erupted into a fight but she had warned him that she'd hit back if he continued to push her around. He had some residual sanity left, enough to recall their first meeting and her name. But he warned her that she ought to stay away and let him die in peace. She repeatedly told him she wanted to help but as he stood towering over her, teeth barred at her he had roughly shoved her into the lamppost at the intersection. Thankfully there had been a lull in traffic and their fight hadn't been spotted by many. By that point he had lost the battle with sanity and fell further into the cloudy fog of the sickness.

She steps onto the street from the curb and winces as pain shoots through her body. He's tough. That fight had been extremely rough; everywhere it flowers out her body but those claws…she had almost gotten sliced a few times. What about those teeth? She had narrowly avoided him sinking his jaw into her hip. That could have been nasty. Nastier than getting bit by a shark she imagines. She might not have had a leg left had that happened. She is going to get a drink and sit in a hot bath until the water puts a chill into her. She needs to ascertain how to get him back to London, which she has a feeling will involve the Icer guns to knock him out. She knows he can get better, they have been working on a cure, and they can help him. She doesn't want him to die; she wants him to live to see the justice that will be brought to him and his people when they go after that company that inflicted this pain onto him. It'll be a justice well deserved. But she has to get him there first.

If she plans on engaging him in a fight, which she hopes not to do again lest she be entirely dedicated to fighting him, she wonders if she could set up and ambush him. Rose waits until the traffic has thinned and she crosses the street, dashing across the street when she notices a haggard looking Chevy Eagle come barrelling down towards her. The driver lays on the horn and Rose rolls her eyes wanting to shout that she can't run at the moment she's entirely broken. But she doesn't, avoiding more confrontation and stares is a good thing right now, she just has to make it to the Chelsea and she'll be good. She rubs her throat carefully, at least that's healed up nicely in the week she's been here, and her voice had started to return a few days after her arrival. It's just the bruising that has stubbornly taken it's time, fading to a pale reddish pink hue that has elicited stares from people so she had ensured that when she did step out for any sleuthing work, the zipper on her cat suit had been done up tightly. She ignored that choking feeling it gave her.

Tonight she had heard rumours that something had been lurking around Tribeca so she just intended to poke around, not thinking she'd find him, but she did. And she hadn't been wearing the best outfit because the stupid shirt is tattered. As if on cue at the thought of the fight, her body intensifies its aches and she groans. The last sighting she had seen of him, while she had been leaning against the exterior of a building nursing her arm, was the Onta fleeing on foot towards Hell's Kitchen. There is an area of Manhattan she doesn't want to become ensnared in at this time of night. While she knows that she can handle herself given Hell's Kitchen's gritty reputation, there are multiple tenement buildings, vagabonds, those don't really bother her, it's the residents. Mainly because Hell's Kitchen is a hotspot for Irish gangsters. She doesn't want trouble to find more trouble then it is a whole mess of trouble she'll have to separate and clean up. Not to mention should a gangster spot the Onta it'll be shoot first ask questions later, not the publicity she needs and of course UNIT would probably have her head on a platter. She promised she'd keep it low key, that's what's gotta happen.

Since when did the trek from the Tribeca neighbourhood to the Chelsea one become so long and arduous? It's probably because she's taking her time, she's hurt, she's got a headache and she really wants have that drink and lounge in her remarkably comfortable clawed foot tub. Sadly she knows she'll be going over the small tidbits of information that Jack has been sending her, keeping her in the loop and vice versa. Which reminds her she needs to call him when she gets in, which has to be soon, where is she, exactly?

Rose pauses at the next street intersection and turns to the street signs. Her arm isn't cooperating nicely. Okay, so she's at 9th Avenue and West 14th Street, eight more blocks until West 23rd, so another fifteen minutes? Maybe. Hudson had been such a long street. She should have sucked it up and called a taxi but she had no fare on her. Besides she liked walking. Just not this banged up. She's gotta get her arm taken care of. She can also feel the bruise forming on her hip from the landing she had earlier.

Is it wrong that she wants to get a flat here, wait, hang on, apartment. Whatever. She wants something to live in here so she can come to New York and just head on home. She absolutely loves it here. Of course it's a different feel to the City than in her time. She just can't quite describe it. It's a different vibe entirely, is it odd that she feels more at home here in 1930 than her future one? That's not at all strange, is it? She sighs, who knows.

Rose can feel the smile on her face as she locks stares with the Chelsea. Thank god for that, she needs to sit and enjoy a drink. Maybe put on some jazz because hell, if being in 1930 has taught her one thing it's that she's rediscovered her love of jazz.

Adam opens the door for her and Rose smiles at him, tucking her sliced and bloodied arm out of sight. At least for now. He nods at her and Rose walks up the few steps and into the lobby. She pauses and glances around, spying the lounge at the far end and to the right, she directly heads for it, awkwardly holding up her hand when Elijah nods at her.

The only thing that is a bother, she thinks, as she enters into the lounge, is the thickness of smoke that hangs in the air. She clears her throat, waving her hand in front of her face a few times as she makes her way to the bar, drowning out the laughter from the large party that is taking up the majority of the booths along the back wall. Well, at least she knows where the majority of the smoke is wafting from, everyone has one in their hands, the burning end creates long tendrils of ashen coloured smoke, driving itself higher and higher to the ceiling. They're obviously having a good time, Rose thinks as she continues to carve out a path towards the bar. The women are dressed in expensive looking dresses in an array of colours and perfectly coifed finger wave hairstyles. Except one woman, she still sports the bob, nearly reminiscent of the one that Louise Brooks made famous. The men are also dressed very stylishly. Expensive suits on all of them and they're a bit more boisterous than their female companions. The Louise Brookes wannabe is hanging off the man in the grey suit, she actually appears to be half in the bag while he seems to be handling his alcohol much better than she is. At one point he essentially has to pry her off of him and he silences her protests with a simple glance. She settles down. Ugh imagine having to babysit that when you go out, it's exhausting. Well, at least she's made it obvious to everyone else that they're together, in a rather sleazy way.

Rose inhales sharply and looks away even faster as she had accidently locked stares with one of the party members, the man in the grey suit. Oops, that's embarrassing. Eye contact is a dangerous, dangerous thing. But it's lovely. Oh, so lovely and he has an alluring dark stare. But why'd he wanna look at her? She looks like hell, she's dirty, so she can't blame him for staring. She's a proper mess. She'll make sure to find another way out so she doesn't have to pass by that table again.

She stops at the bar, admiring the polished dark wood and a man in a wrinkle free white shirt and black bow tie comes up to her with a smile. She nods and notices that the majority of the back wall is bare. Oh no…she forgot. Still, what are the chances that they actually follow the 18th Amendment? What reputable place does? They know their clients want alcohol, it's New York, and the Chelsea is most likely not being raided because it bought off so the police probably don't come around looking. Then again all of this is speculation. So what the hell, she'll give it a shot.

'Hello miss what can I get for you?' The man has dullness to his voice and Rose smile, leaning her elbows on the bar. That's a bad idea, pain shoots through her arm and she covers the pain by straightening up.

'Whiskey, please.'

A shadow crosses the man's eyes because he looks nervous, glancing over his shoulder before clearing his throat. Rose recognises as an attempt to be confident and firm. 'I'm sorry, miss, maybe you haven't heard the news given where you're from, but it is illegal to sell, distribute or manufacture alcohol here in America. I'm sorry, miss, but we have no alcohol here.'

Rose's face drains of emotion. She is really sure if this is a ploy to keep out the troublemakers that could bust them or if this hotel is gripped by a party that wants to ensure outsiders don't come in, whatever the case may be, she's angry. She wants a drink and then to go upstairs to relax. She doesn't want the run around.

'That so? So, you're telling me that every other patron in this bar is drinking something other than alcohol?' Rose wonders and notices that a line of perspiration has appeared on the hairline of the man. She arches her eyebrow as his eyes dart and scan the room. He rests his hands on the bar, gripping the ends until his knuckles blanche. 'That's what I thought; I'm not stupid. If you don't want to admit to me that this is still a speakeasy then that's fine, but don't refuse me service on the grounds that you don't know who I am.'

'Miss, I must politely inform you, once more…' He continues on but Rose doesn't hear him, she feels her mobile ring in her cargo pants and sighs. The man finishes up his speech wondering what she could say next.

'I have to step outside for a moment; I'd really like to see a glass of whiskey on this bar when I get back. Please.' She informs him sweetly, pulling the mobile out of her pocket and striding towards the door. Forgetting the table she had vowed to avoid and the man in the grey suit that has stood up, not taking his eyes off of her.

Rose zips up her green jacket she had tossed on after her fight with the Onta. She had previously tied it to her waist because she had gotten hot while poking around but dropped it to the ground once they had commenced their scuffle because it inhibited her movements. Plus it concealed her arm. At least for now.

Once she's around back she answers her mobile to hear the booming voice of the friend she had just made while in Paris a few weeks ago. Their communication had been sporadic at best since she returned to London and he to Moscow. Mikhail had been a tremendous help in their investigation. Now it seemed, he wanted to talk. He has this grand idea for an organisation that he wants to spearhead its creation but wants her input. She's actually rather surprised he wants her help. She mentally tries to commit some dates however she also tells him that she's currently in the middle of something, so it could take time to get there. She thought telling him that would be a deterrent but surprisingly it isn't, he tells her to come when she can. His wife, Olena, the one who had been accompanying them around Paris is eager to see her again. Actually she really liked Olena, okay so pencil him in. This is getting difficult; she needs to hire a secretary. Who knew working for yourself could be so…demanding?

Rose hangs up with him and sighs. She has nothing on her to write down his thoughts, or his wants and commits it to memory. The first thing she'll do when she's upstairs in her room is write it down. She can't forget it. She shivers slightly and heads inside, really hoping there is a glass of whiskey on that table for her and knows it'll help warm her up. Just in case there isn't, Rose begins preparing her remarks and rants. But as she strolls into the lounge, she has once again forgotten the table who she had made awkward eye contact with earlier, but not the man in the grey suit. He notices that she's come back in and smiles when she sees the crystal glass of whiskey in front of her. He leaves his group without a word but the men joining him had seen the look on his face when the blonde walked in. Now it was just a matter of securing what's his.

The bartender notices the strangely dressed woman has returned and reluctantly heads over to her. She makes him nervous and even though she's smiling at him as he stops in front of her, he decides he still doesn't like her company however he nods at her nonetheless.

'Oh, thank you,' Rose raises the glass and the bar tender gives her an awkward smile. 'How much do I owe you?' She wonders, but forgets that the money is upstairs; she really hopes he will let her start a tab that she can pay in the morning. They do tabs, right? She isn't that early, is she? To make it look like she has interest in paying right away, she places her hand into her pocket.

However the bartender is already shaking his head. 'It's already been paid for, miss.'

Rose stares at him with a neutral expression but internally she's already feeling strife. She's only been in here, in this very lounge for a totally of five minutes or less, how the hell could she have already picked up an admirer? 'What? No. No. Who was it?'

'I'm not really at liberty to say, miss.'

'Can't or won't?' Rose wonders incensed and notices the man in the grey suit has stopped beside her at the bar and the bartender immediately pulls out a decanter of amber liquid even before the man has set the glass back down. Rose rolls her eyes. Once the bar tender has filled his glass he doesn't leave, the bar tender turns to her.

'I'm sorry,' Is all the bartender states and Rose glares at him before turning her annoyance on to her drink. She studies it and frowns. The bartender notices. 'Something wrong, miss?'

'How do I know this wasn't made in some bathtub in someone's basement?' Rose questions and swishes the liquid around in the glass. The bartender glances to the man in the grey suit. He smirks.

'Because I know it hasn't been.'

Rose turns to her attention to the man in the suit taking a deep drink. She is rather stunned. Why is he even here? A quick scan of him causes her brain to forget what she's doing. He's…rather attractive. She blinks the stupidity out of her mind. 'That so?'

'Yes. It's imported from Canada, from Windsor. It's real.' The man assures her and Rose blinks at him, she has a funny feeling that this is the man that bought her drink. But she doesn't ask, actually she's trying to get him to go away. She tries not to look at him.

'Smuggled you mean,' Rose replies and the man smiles at her before he takes another drink. He doesn't reply to her comment. 'Well, as long as I have _your_ reassurance.'

The man laughs a bit and lights up a cigarette. Rose crinkles her nose. 'What makes you hesitant?' He wonders as he catches her scrutinising the liquid further.

'Heard some rumours that the bootlegging racket had people in it who believed that just because they made a bathtub gin or whiskey the people they would be selling it to, the public, would be too stupid to know the difference. All that matters to them is that it's drinkable and contained alcohol. Quantity not quality instead of vice versa.' Rose answers and takes a small drink. It's actually good. Really good.

The man eyes her with a reserved expression. But he is impressed. 'You're not wrong, but depending on where you are in this city…that's what makes the difference.'

'Yeah? Am I in the good part?'

'You are.'

Rose smirks into her glass, taking another sip. 'You know, I may not look it, but I am actually capable of buying my own things.'

'That so?' He still hasn't admitted that he's actually the one who bought it for her. It aggravates her. 'What do you do?' He wonders and leans over to flick the ash of the cigarette into the tray the bartender had placed beside him.

'I hardly think that's any of your business.' Rose answers with a bit of a snarky tone, she takes a longer drink to be done this conversation quicker.

'Must be…rather dangerous.'

'Why do you think that?'

'Because your arm is bleeding.' He points to her arm and Rose's attention is lower to where the claw marks have resumed bleeding. Staining through her shirt and jacket. The green doesn't do much to cover the contrasting red that has appeared. Rose swallows and finishes the rest of her drink, setting the glass back down rather audibly. It garners a few stares from nearby tables.

'Great…' Rose mutters and begins to walk away.

'You're leaving?' He calls after her and Rose doesn't dignify him with a response. He smiles nonetheless, stubbing out the cigarette and grabbing his drink before making his way back to his table. He doesn't sit for long, after about seven or eight minutes he's up again, deciding that he isn't finished with blonde yet. He can't believe his luck, who'd have thought she'd just come strolling right back on in to New York like she owned it?

His associates don't question where he's off to; they already know and do their best to keep the girl silent as she protests his abrupt departure. It isn't working with her; she's going to have to go. He walks to the reception desk and pulls out a few bills, placing them under the man's nose as he hadn't noticed his arrival at first, but dropping the bill onto the ledger he's got his nose pressed to has gotten his attention.

The man smiles at him when the realisation dons on his face. So he knows who he is. The front desk minder glances at the money and gives him an uneasy smile. What does he want to know? He wants to know what floor the blonde in the green jacket is on.

It doesn't take long before he's in front of the elevators waiting.

* * *

><p>There is a knock at the door already. How can that be, she just got in. Rose angrily drops her jacket on the floor and steals another longing gaze at the washroom and the polished, clawed tub vowing silently that she'd be back for it. Just as soon as she got rid of this visitor. Her muscles are achy and it takes everything in her to put one foot in front of the other as she leaves the back end of the suite towards the front door. That fight hadn't been a good idea. That Onta had been extremely tough, no doubt from the poison that courses through his veins. It hurts her how terrified he is of his inability to control what is happening to him. She vows to get him back to UNIT safely. She'd do whatever it takes.<p>

Another series of knocks erupt and she scowls as she approaches the door. 'Yeah, yeah, hang on…' Rose trails off and slides the lock out of place and opens the door. She freezes and widens her eyes. The man from bar is there. He smiles at her. 'Nope!' She declares and immediately shuts the door in his face. It slams rather loudly. She leans against the door and exhales nervously. Not what she had been expecting, what does she do?

She's never been in this strange situation. Sure men have hit on her before and she's always been rather dismissive of their advancements but this man…why is he so different? Is it his smile? Rose swallows nervously, is it hot in there? It feels like someone's turned up the heat in her suite. She fans herself. Really hot.

'Can you…open the door?' He wonders and Rose widens her eyes and shakes her head against the door, not offering a reply. 'I know you're there.'

'No…'

'Why not?'

'Because…no.' Rose maintains and the man laughs a bit.

'Could you at least open the door so you can reject me to my face?' He questions and Rose bites her lip, making a show as she turns around and her hand hovers over the knob. She inhales; pressing her lips together and opens the door in a swift motion.

'What?' Rose inhales deeply and attempts to maintain her stoic face so she tilts her chin away from him. Oh…why does _Sharp Dressed Man_ suddenly pop into her head?

'You left rather abruptly.' He replies seriously and Rose blinks herself back into focus. Her gaze lowers to the makeshift bandage tied around her exposed arm. The damn Onta's claws had sliced through her arm with ease.

'You pointed out a major flaw in my attire.' Rose's reply is snarky and he starts to laugh. He continues to give her a thorough once over and she grows uncomfortable and hot.

Well since he insists on giving her a once over, maybe she ought to do the same. After all there isn't much for him to see. Her cargo pants hold on to the dirt from her tumble expertly. The contrasting brown from the dirt to the black of her pants almost invite stares since she seems to draw attention to it anyway. However it had been her arm that is calling for the most attention. Giving her wild, windswept hair a break. The slice from the Onta's claw has torn through the thin fabric of her shirt so that it had hung on by a thread. In the end she had torn it off to wrap around the three scraggly marks on her arm, which where still visible even though she's tied it off. She had intentions to tend to it once she had returned to her suite. Looks like that wasn't happening now.

But enough about her, while she had been thinking of her own attire and this man's insistence on pointing out that her sleeve was missing and how she retorted that it was technically still on her arm so it isn't missing, she'd been entirely focused on him. She wants to hide behind the door slightly to observe him better. This has never happened before, why is he making her feel like a stupid schoolgirl with a crush?

There is something familiar about those dark brown eyes, though. Certain she's seen them before but she can't seem to recall where. There's brilliance to them, cunning, cockiness, and assertiveness. How can so many traits shine through like that? She really wants to know and feels herself gripping the doorknob tighter in her hands. He's taller than she had first noticed, well he had been sitting and then leaning…so it's not surprising she didn't see it. Maybe just shy of six foot? Nice broad shoulders…Rose comes to her senses. Hang on…what? Get it together.

The charcoal grey suit suits him very well, perfectly tailored and expensive looking. It's something she hadn't really noticed, or paid attention to while at the bar. Now that he's closer to her, and she isn't upset at their interactions, she notices a lot more about him too. However the tie is loosened slightly from around his neck and the very top collar button on the white dress shirt underneath the vest and jacket has been left open. He might be a businessman; after all, this is New York. He clearly has money and enjoys flaunting it. Maybe the day just ended and he's attempting to relax? Rose pauses. Why is she speculating? Who cares?

'Why did you follow me?' Rose questions after some time has passed and the man shrugs absently, clearly he hadn't thought this through entirely, and now he's paying for it. She wonders if he knew this would be the result. He should have expected it. 'If you want your money back for the drink you didn't have to buy me, give me a second and I'll get you some.'

'That's not why I'm here.' He answers matter of factly and Rose leans against the doorframe utterly perplexed as to what he wants. If he wants to ask her out the answer is no. Hell no. She will not be tempted or swayed by this man's good looks.

'Then why _are_ you here?' Rose states again. Once more the man falls silent. Rose holds her sigh of impatience in. 'Look, if you aren't sure then I'm going to shut this door. I've had an awful day, as I'm sure you can see,' She holds up her still bandaged arm as evidence to her testimony. 'So, I'd like to get some sleep.'

He doesn't entirely hear her words. 'You really don't remember me, do you?' Does he have the wrong woman? No he's entirely certain that she's the right one. He remembers her smile…well she hasn't exactly smiled since they started speaking so perhaps he's recalling her mischievous eyes.

Rose merely flashes him an impatient look, but doesn't miss the obvious tone of hurt in his voice. She's been so busy as of late that she doesn't even remember half the names of the people she's working with. She doesn't even remember what she had to eat or even when she ate last. That's how busy she's been, establishing her cliental base since moving into the consulting field. She hasn't time travelled in a few months either, and even then she doesn't recall hitting New York. Or maybe she did, it's honestly blurry memories. She needs to settle down or she'll burn out again, just like the Proclamation.

'No, I'm sorry, I don't.' Rose softens her tone and attempts to quell her attitude and irritation.

'Your name is Rose, isn't it?' He questions, mostly for his own sense of relief, and Rose is stunned. She attempts to hide her shock but she evidently doesn't do a well enough job because he's caught her. 'I thought so.'

'Okay, if you wanted to freak me out, job well done. So please extend the same courtesy because I am not sure I know you. Despite what you say.' Rose replies flatly and he gives her a crooked smile.

'We met on Staten Island. You saved my life.'

Instantly she remembers. How could she forget him lying in her arms bleeding profusely from multiple stab wounds? Her mouth falls open. She slowly moves her hand up to cover it. Wow…

'Charlie…?' Rose whispers and he merely smiles at her again. 'Well, I'll be damned, look how well you clean up.' Rose plants her hands firmly on her hips.

'Not too bad, I agree.' Charlie answers her and he can see the moment all of the snarkiness and attitude dissipate from her face. Now that she remembers him, of course. He's rather glad all that fiery attitude hadn't left her.

'I'm so, so sorry, it's just…last time…' Rose begins and trails off, remembering how badly he had been beaten by who she assumes to be those three men in the antiquated limo with him.

Gingerly she touches the scar on the right side of his face. Faintly she can see it when he shifted his weight from one foot to the other and the light strikes it. It did scar, as she suspected it would but it also affected his right eye as well, leaving it slightly droopy. She's curious to know who did it.

'Forty painful stitches later.' Charlie states when Rose lowers her hand. He couldn't help but notice the dried blood stuck to her fingers, even though she's made an effort to wash the blood from her hands, it's stuck around her nails. What has she been up to?

'That's how many it took? It was worse than I originally thought.' Rose replies sadly however Charlie absently shrugs, clearly not dwelling on the matter, however something else catches her eye as well. She waits to see if it'd be appropriate for her to investigate further.

'It was a long, long night.' Charlie agrees and Rose points to her throat before pointing at his.

'What's that, then? Did I miss one?' Rose muses and Charlie instantly thinks of the next major fight he'd been in after they had parted ways. How he didn't die because of that one still stumped him. Must have been because the knife had been too dull or his attacker didn't use enough pressure. Amateurs. Can't even kill someone right, no wonder they had turned up dead the next following days and weeks.

Her fingers are cool when they reach out to inspect it. He nearly applauds her forwardness, her fingers separate the collar and she frowns, taking note of the faint scar that runs across his throat. After inspecting it, she draws her hand back and stares at him with a stoic expression. She isn't happy; she truly believes that she had forgotten to tend to one of his injuries. Well it would be hard to do when one wasn't even there. Still, it's rather touching she cared.

'You didn't miss one.' He assures her and Rose places her hands on her hips, already shaking her head at him. He smiles at her.

'You couldn't even stay out of trouble long enough?' She wonders and sighs. 'How long after that one did you get this one?' Rose motions to the one on his face before moving her finger down to the one on his neck.

'About three months.'

'Well, either trouble doesn't take long to find your or you don't take long to find trouble.' Rose places her hands on her hips and Charlie gives her a smirk, she loves that crooked smirk, his eyes get darker. She stops. Wait. What?

'You're one to speak, Rose.' Charlie states and Rose folds her arms at him.

'Yeah well, I told you I could handle myself.' She answers with a smile. Charlie folds his arms this time.

'I remember.'

Rose can tell he wants to ask her something more but he falls silent. Not venturing further. Not wanting to be rude and cut their reunited time short, however she has a lot of work to do now that she knows the Onta is lurking around here somewhere. It could be a late night and she really wants to sleep for a few hours, or days.

'I'm sorry, Charlie, I don't mean to be rude, it was really nice seeing you again, really it was…but…I have to get this taken care of,' She holds up her arm once more, hoping he'd buy her excuse. 'And then I have a lot of work to do. But it really was nice seeing you again…'

'What are you doing tomorrow night?' Charlie questions and Rose is taken off guard. She continues to stare stupidly at him, blinking the shock off of her face. Well, what is she doing tomorrow?

Hopefully catching the stray Onta and then leaving, saying goodbye, since she had no reason to stay any longer, she would have completed her job and she would be moving on to the next one. Huh. That is what she does, right? So why does it sound so strange to think of it? More importantly, how does she explain to Charlie that she'd be working without him growing suspicious? She has to stay here until she has completed her job. Who knows how long that could be? So, short answer, she isn't sure. Long answer she still isn't sure but she'd be working to find out.

'Honestly, I'm not really sure yet. It's a whole day away. Why?'

'Because I want to make good on my promise to you.' Charlie answers simply and Rose stares at him like he's just told her the meaning of life. Then she remembers a small detail that might just help her out. It's not that she doesn't want to spend more time with him, he's certainly intriguing, but she has things she needs to get done.

'What did you have in mind?' She questions before she's had a chance to fully think about her response to him. Now she's just being stupid and giving in to thoughts that are incidental but at the same time, seem to be the loudest in her mind.

'Dinner.' Charlie replies and watches Rose continue to gawk at him. Clearly she hadn't been expecting an invitation like that. He had been rather annoyed that he didn't get a chance to pass along contact details before he had been hauled away to the hospital, then the police station that night. Who would have thought that the pretty English blonde would come sauntering into New York again? And so soon as well. Abruptly she seems more confident and gives him a cold look as she arches her eyebrow at him. Why the change in demeanour?

'Dinner, yeah? And what would your girlfriend think about that?' Rose inquires and she can see that she's left Charlie without words. He had completely forgot that his girlfriend had been with him; the moment he saw Rose everything else fell by the wayside.

Rose thinks back to the pretty girl with a styled dark bob and brown eyes. Her slightly upturned nose and full lips are attractive and completely opposite herself. Plus, she isn't one to condone cheating.

'I…'

'And don't tell me she isn't your girlfriend, Charlie, it was plainly obvious,' Rose adds, nearly wanting to remind him how she had been hanging off of him and he clears his throat, still attempting to think of something to say, so she decides to mention something else. 'I don't share, got that? And I know you know what I'm talking about, so that's my answer. Do with it as you will. Have a nice night, Charlie.'

Rose shuts the door; he doesn't knock or attempt to call her name. Just as well, she thinks. It's better this way.

She slides down the door until she's sitting and she draws her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and she believes that she's ended this. She hears his footfalls as he leaves her door and she closes her eyes relieved. She doubts highly that she'll be seeing him any time soon. Good. That's really good.

Who does he think he is following her to her room and then demanding that she agree to go to dinner with him? Well too late to contemplate the what ifs. It's over and that's that. Good…she doesn't need that good-looking man in her life anyway. Shut up, she thinks and attempts to quell the stupid notions in her mind. It's late and she wants to sleep. Right, sleep does sound good right now.

She doesn't realise that she's fallen asleep like that in that horribly uncomfortable position.

* * *

><p>'I know, Jack, I know,' Rose sighs and readjusts her legs and presses them against the adjacent building in the alleyway that she'd ducked into to make this conversation. She can smell the rain moving in, the last thing she wants is to get caught in it. 'Right, I know the Onta is here, I followed him, we fought. He can't go anywhere else. I know, I think he's scared. If and when I find him I'm going to try and talk him into coming with me, I think I can do it.'<p>

_'I know you can, Kate thinks so, too,'_ Jack replies and Rose doesn't attempt to hide her smile from anyone. She's rather pleased. _'That's why your wannabe boyfriend was so annoyed that she bypassed him for you.'_

'Please don't call him my wannabe boyfriend, Jack, I just threw up in my mouth a little,' Rose retorts and Jack laughs on the other end of the phone. Rose turns her attention to the Chelsea that sits kitty-corner to where she currently is. She's looking forward to relaxing for the rest of the afternoon and evening while she pieces together the information she's got on the Onta. 'Thanks for helping us out on this one.'

_'No trouble, I haven't been terribly busy, to be honest,'_ Jack answers and Rose rests her head against the brick all of the building she's propped herself up against. She lowers one of her legs slightly, pressing her shoe harder against the neighbouring building. _'I can definitely see why that Hennessey guy annoys you.'_

'Ugh, I know, right? I'm worried, Jack.' Rose admits and she can almost see Jack's face knit into one of confusion.

_'Why?'_

'I'm afraid that when I bring this Onta back for his own safety so that we can help him get well, Hennessey will do something stupid like try to kill him. He's done it before, Jack. He's a stone cold killer and then always finds an excuse to justify the killing. And people believe him! That's the most infuriating part.'

_'I won't let that happen.'_ Jack swears and Rose breathes a small sigh of relief. She feels better, just slightly, but it's something.

'I know you won't, that's why when I find him, I'm calling ahead to let you know I'm on my way back. I want Kate there to greet us, I'm hoping that will deter him from acting like an idiot.' Rose explains and Jack exhales softly. Rose turns into herself slightly when she notices a few people walk by the alleyway.

_'What are you doing now?'_

'I'm gonna head to my hotel and see if I can't figure out where he's hiding,' Rose stifles her yawn, she decides not to mention that she might have a quick nap to help her think clearer. It's all she can think about, actually.

_'Yeah? Where have you holed up?'_

'The Chelsea.'

_'Nothing but the best, huh?'_ Jack wonders with a chuckle in his voice and Rose is unable to hide her smile. She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.

'Honestly, you think it's amazing now, you should see it in 1930, it's stunning.' Rose replies seriously and Jack sighs a bit out of desperation.

_'I'd join you, but I had a stupid lapse in judgement and decided that I ought to will my manipulator to Kate and UNIT upon my death. Stupid decision, really.'_ Jack explains and Rose laughs, unable to stop her rebuttal from escaping her mouth.

'Just as well, less trouble for you to cause. One trip there another just to apologise.' Rose retorts and Jack laughs loudly into the phone. Rose can't see him shaking his head at her, truthfully she wouldn't mind if Jack joined her, it'd be nice to have some familiar company.

_'Touché, I suppose,'_ Jack answers and sighs a bit into the phone. Rose glances to the Chelsea, hungry now. Where did that come from? _'You'll keep me up to date with whatever you find, clues or otherwise?'_

'You know I will.'

_'Stay in touch, please, you're bad at that, Rose.'_ Jack reminds and Rose rolls her eyes at his judgments of her, even if she knows he's right. Instead she lowers herself to the ground and brushes the dirt from her pants.

'Yes, I will, I'll call you tomorrow afternoon.' She promises and smiles as Jack wishes her luck and hangs up. She slips the mobile into her pants pocket and crosses the street once the traffic thins enough.

As she approaches the front doors she takes a look up to the iron balconies that greet her. There's just something that draws her to this hotel, she has no idea why. She can see the regular doorman is there, smiling at the people who walk in front of them. He's so sweet, and knows New York so well, there have been a few times that she's inquired where she can get a quick meal, given the times, and he's never disappointed her. He holds his hand out to her when he sees her approaching.

'Ah, Miss Rose, you're back! It's been quite some time.'

'Hi Adam!' She greets and gives him a quick embrace. It takes him off guard and she forgets where she is and the decade. She pulls herself off but she does see the appreciation in his eyes. 'I know, it's been what, a week?' She wonders and he nods his head.

'Nine days, to be exact.'

'Doesn't even feel like it,' She comments and he pulls the door open for her. She smiles up at him. 'I may need to bother you later for some thoughts on the food around here again. What time do you finish today, Adam?'

'About seven tonight, Miss Rose, but come by before then, if you can. I seem to be having a busy week around that time.' Adam replies and Rose nods her head at him as she steps inside.

'Will do, have a nice day. I'll be down as soon as I can.'

'And you, Miss Rose.' Adam waits until she's turned around before he lets the door fall shut behind him. He nods at a man heading towards him and pulls the door open for him as he heads inside.

Rose heads towards the front desk to reclaim her key, always leaving it with the staff there so she doesn't accidentally leave it in London, which she's afraid she'll do. She's had so much on her mind that she forgot her coffee back at her flat one morning on her way out the door. She hadn't been the most pleasant to be around until Jack stopped off and brought her one. Then she came around.

The man younger than Adam in the fresh pressed suit that minds the desk gives her a smile and a curt nod, turning around behind him to the many, many slots where the keys rest for the rooms that cover the twelve floors. At least hers doesn't hide, she's up near the top, no, no the left. There it is. She smiles as his hand secures the brass key and pulls it from its spot.

'Good morning, Miss Tyler, good to have you back.' The man states and Rose smiles, holding out her hand so that the key is dropped there. She grips it tightly.

'Very nice to be back, I'll say. Thanks, Elijah.' Rose holds up the key and begins to head towards the lift but frowns and stops her pace when Elijah calls her back.

'Miss Tyler I wonder if you have but a moment?'

Rose backtracks to the desk and blinks from confusion. Their relationship has never evolved past pleasantries; he has never called her back to chat, that isn't who he is. 'Of course, what's the matter?'

'There has been someone here over the course of the last week or so calling on you. I just wonder if the next time you must leave for an extended period you could give me something general to respond with. Perhaps an estimated return date?'

'Someone…called on me?' Rose replies with a touch of disbelief in her voice and Elijah gives her a firm nod. He rests his hands on the desk and leans in closer. They're sharing secrets now?

'He came nearly every day to see if you had returned. I hadn't an idea when you would return but that didn't seem to deter him. He would just smile and head out. Only to try again the next day.' Elijah explains and Rose arches her eyebrow. That's unsettling. Who would take the time to see if she's returned to her suite for damn near a week?

'He leave his name?'

'No, he didn't.'

Rose frowns and then shrugs, she has other things to worry about than some stranger calling on her for no apparent reason. Still she is a bit curious. 'Elijah, the next time this man comes to see me, could you ring my room, please?'

'Of course.' Elijah reaches for the telephone when it rings. Rose gives him a smile and he nods in acknowledgement as he picks up the pen to quickly jot down information. She heads for the lift.

She doesn't wait very long before she turns around to the harsh whisper of someone calling her name. She's surprised to see Elijah once again making his way towards her. This is turning into a strange day. Again.

'Miss Tyler, he's here.' Elijah informs her and Rose blinks in surprise. That was rather…fast. A coincidence? Had to be, even if Elijah was in on this conspiracy to keep tabs on her until her return, there simply wasn't enough time to ring this constant visitor, tell her she had returned and for him to then make the trip from wherever he was in the City. No mobile phones yet and just, no. It simply couldn't be done.

'Really? Where?' Rose attempts to scan the lobby to see if perhaps she could spot someone who could resemble someone that would want to tail her. No one sticks out, at least not that she can tell.

Elijah points to the opening to the lounge. Rose frowns. Of course. 'He's in there. I told him you weren't here and he said that he didn't mind. He's in a blue suit.' He adds assuming that she will have the burning curiosity to discover who her caller is. He'd be right about that.

You're a liar, Rose thinks but doesn't vocalise her thoughts. 'Okay, thank you.' She doesn't linger to hear Elijah's response. Something tells her that he'll be expecting her. If there is one thing she doesn't like it's being followed to the place that was supposed to be her safe haven. The spot she chooses, wherever that might be in the world, to call home. Home is supposed to be safe.

It isn't as busy in here as it had been the first time she had stepped foot into the lounge. Patrons are dining on lunch, though dressed in their finery. The air isn't as clogged as it had been before; it's manageable now. She hides her smile, the small things she misses in her time, namely the smoke free environment. She scans the lounge quickly. The only man in a blue suit has his back to her, chatting up the bartender from the first time. The bartender has a look on his face that tells Rose he both fears and respects the man. Interesting. She decides to stroll on towards them, noticing that the bartender spots her first but doesn't inform the man standing there. It's better that way, sneak attack.

'Care to tell me why you've been staking out my home away from home for nine days?' Rose folds her arms as she stands behind the man and he pauses in his speech. She's clearly cut him off but isn't the least bit apologetic.

'Hasn't been nine days.' He corrects and Rose rolls her eyes.

'Distinction without difference,' Rose counters and still doesn't turn around to face her. 'Why have you been staking out my hotel for nine days?' She questions once again and he finally turns around to face her.

'Try six.' He replies and Rose stares at him. That isn't who she had been expecting.

'Charlie?' She questions in disbelief, trying to keep her shock to a minimum.

'Rose.' He acknowledges and she frowns as she smiles at him, dropping her hands to her sides. She thought she had gotten rid of him with her rather scathing comment over a week ago, telling him firmly that she would not be an on the side girl. She has more respect for herself that way.

And what does that look he's giving her say? To say she grows uncomfortable is an understatement. But it's not uncomfortable in a bad way, no, it's…a bothered uncomfortable, an antsy bother. And then she realises why. Oh god, no. No. She can't be attracted to him…in _that_ way. No, no, stop it. She mentally tells herself, as if it's that easy. Great, while she's sure she doesn't let the embarrassment of her realisation play out on her face, she still wants to run away and hide.

'Well, now that I know it's only you…' Rose trails off and attempts to sound a bit more…inviting. She conjures up a smile. 'Why have you been waiting around here for me?'

'Still on that subject?' He questions as if she ought to know why. She does, but she hopes that she's simply misinterpreting his motives. Even though that's impossible, he's making his intentions blatantly obvious. 'No, 'hi how are you?''

'Okay, sorry, you're right, I've got manners,' Rose does her best to keep the mocking tone out of her voice, though she does hear it slip in towards the end. If Charlie notices, he makes no comment. 'I trust you're having a pleasant day?' She wonders and knows this time he caught the tone in her voice because he smiles at her, the crooked one.

'Wonderful, so glad you inquired,' His reply to her is also a bit on the sarcastic side so Rose smiles a bit as well. 'And yours?'

'Oh, so wonderful, totally can't beat this day.'

'Evidently not,' Charlie agrees and Rose folds her arms, signalling him that he ought to hurry up and ask her his question or tell her what he wants to tell her. 'Do you have a minute?'

Rose mentally panics and decides to fabricate an excuse. 'Actually, I'm on my way out, forgot to pick up something at the shop.'

'Where are you going?'

'Closest grocer.' Rose invents and she isn't sure by Charlie's look that he entirely believes her.

'Do you mind if I join you?' Charlie wonders and he can see her mentally debating the question, the first time he's seen her in six days, he'd like to spend more time with her and perhaps have a more engaging conversation other than her rejecting his invitation and the likes.

Rose doesn't know what to say. But…she wants him around, she really likes his company. Oh no, did she really just think that? 'Yeah, sure. I don't mind.' Her mind has answered her question before she had a chance to mentally think about it. Guess she knows who's doing the majority of thinking from this point on. Doesn't help when he smiles at her the way that he does.

Back out onto the streets they go. Rose has no idea where the closest grocer is and Charlie seems to sense that because he's taken to leading them down a ways on West 23rd until they take a left onto 7th Avenue. Rose wonders if this had been a good idea. They're quiet now, not saying much, not saying anything, actually. Thankfully it's just a silence and nothing awkward. She's remarkably happy she still has some cash stuffed into these pockets, having apparently prepared herself well last night before she fell asleep. It felt as though she had just shut her eyes and then she heard her obnoxious alarming blaring. There is a four am and it sucks. She checks her watch, early afternoon. What can be accomplished with the day remaining?

'Somewhere to be?' Charlie wonders and Rose blinks shaking her head quickly but she isn't really sure why. She does have things to do but places? Just surveying the city because it appears as though she'll be going to Hell's Kitchen. The newspapers had published reports of people seeing something odd stalking around the alleyways late at night. She thought nothing of it until she read that it had been over the course of the week she had been gone. Multiple sightings. So he's there.

'Oh, not yet, later though.' Rose replies and spots Palmer's Grocery on the corner of West 26th Street. Charlie seems interested in that response because as he lights up his cigarette he gives her a small smile.

'Really?'

Rose eyes him. 'Yes, why?'

He merely smiles at her as he holds the door open to the grocer's shop but offers no response. Rose knows why. Dinner. He's so adamant on that, she told him last October that he didn't have to do what he wanted to do, she merely said yes as a formality. One because she didn't plan on ever seeing him again, what were the chances of that, and two because doing something nice for someone in need didn't require a reward. So she ruined a dress and a jacket, she saved his life, that's a bit more important than replacing those items.

Rose concentrates on the selection in the shop, sparse. Right. Refrigeration is only just starting to become popular, perishables are often bought up in small amounts more frequently as many homes lack fridges, or they are a luxury item. Rose inwardly sighs, once again poor planning on her part. Again. God she's gotta get better at that.

Fine, that's fine, she can make a lot of snacks out of the food available and on a stop back home she'll get some better things from Tesco. For a third time Rose wanders around the little displays of food and notices that the shop owner is having a rather frank discussion with Charlie. Their voices are hushed, Rose can't hear much but she does hear the shop owner beg Charlie to 'do something about it', he's getting tired of it. Charlie says something in response to him. The shop owner appears relieved and as Rose approaches them, she can see him visibly relax. Rose dumps her armful of food onto the wooden counter. The shop owner smiles at her while Charlie looks a little surprised at the lack of…substance to her selections.

'That everything, miss?'

'Yes, thank you.' Rose feels someone's stare on her and she turns up to Charlie with an expression that questions the why of his stare. He motions to her food.

'Where's dinner?'

'You're looking at it.' Rose replies and digs into her pocket for some money while the owner fishes out a paper bag from under the counter. She doesn't miss the rather surprised look on the owners face by her bluntness to Charlie's question.

'That's not dinner. It's an amalgamation of food.' Charlie states and Rose smiles at him through her lashes, passing money into the owner's hand before Charlie gets a chance to. Just in case. A drink is one thing; she will not let anyone buy her food.

'Perfect for dinner,' Rose counters and Charlie merely eyes her as she accepts the little brown bag handed to her by the owner. She hugs it to her chest and the owner smiles at her, and nods at Charlie who opens his mouth to say something to her but she cuts him off. 'No.'

'No what?'

'No, not tonight.' Rose answers as they start back towards the Chelsea. Charlie frowns at her.

'You don't even know what I was going to ask.' He replies and Rose reaches into the bag for one of her newly acquired apples, starving all of a sudden. She wipes it on her pants.

'You're going to ask me to dinner. Why else would you be waiting around for me come back?'

'Ever think that maybe I just wanted to see you? For god sake, Rose, you saved my life.' Charlie reminds her, he's not angry, just…there's just conviction in his voice. Rose presses her lips together staring at the apple she has in her hand. Yeah, she did do that. But…she was just doing what she thought was right. It didn't merit a payback. Besides, she really doesn't have time to going for dinner dates; she is here for one job only. She reminds herself of that. Her job comes first. Not her needs, so she pushes her strong feelings of attraction to him to the wayside. Where they belong.

Rose swallows and attempts to be kind in her rejection. However…she has a feeling rejection isn't something he's used to. She can tell Charlie is a man who is used to getting what he wants. So she'd better tread carefully.

'I know I did, but I didn't do it to get a reward, Charlie, I did it because you needed help. That's all.'

'It's not a reward, Rose.' Charlie interjects before she's had enough time to say the second part of her sentence out. She's got to stay focused, she's afraid she'll tell him yes without really thinking of it properly. Even though she'd like go out with him, just once, just to talk really. That's all. She bristles. No, stop thinking like that. There isn't time.

'Then what is it, Charlie?' Rose wonders and he flicks the burning cigarette into the streets. They stand at the corner of West 23rd Street. She puts the apple back into her bag and holds onto it tightly, feeling the need to having something ground her.

'Maybe I just want to get to know the girl who saved my life. And then disappeared. And then came back.' Charlie informs her and Rose hides her smile, if only he knew.

'I told you my reply to that invitation about a week ago. It hasn't changed.' Rose answers him firmly and notices that Charlie is watching a man approach them in a grey over coat. It'll be moments before he arrives.

Charlie merely smiles at her. His look tells her that he's already got that covered. 'Really? Even if I no longer have a girlfriend?'

Rose stares at him before narrowing her eyes. 'That so? I hope that wasn't because of me. I hope you didn't do that to gain a yes from me.' Rose informs him and grips the bag tighter. He doesn't say no right away. Rose mentally sighs. That must have been hard on the Louise Brookes wannabe.

'That reason is my own.' Charlie states seriously and Rose watches the man coming towards them crossing the final street. She had better end this quick.

'I don't know, Charlie, I'm in and out so often that I can barely keep track of the days. I don't want to commit and then forget. I just…don't think I have time.' Rose reply is honest and she's hoping she had been able to convey that in her voice. She jumps back and forth between decades and places so often that she had been certain at one point that she had fallen asleep in New York and woke up in London, believing for sure that she had become confused with her surroundings. It's not like she time travelled in her sleep.

Charlie isn't deterred, but can't answer her right away because someone's called his name and he sighs, noticing that Rose has taken a few steps back. They're parting ways. And he can do nothing to stop her. 'I'm not going to stop. Until you say yes.' He warns her and Rose smiles.

'You will. I know it. I'm notoriously difficult. You'll get fed up with me.'

'It's just dinner. And I know I won't.'

'And I just don't have time.' Rose counters and he folds his arms, smirking at her.

'I'll see you later.' Charlie calls to her as she turns around and starts towards the crowd. He knows she'll arrive safely. The Chelsea is in view. She sticks her hand up in the air as a response to his shout towards her.

'You won't!' She calls back to him and Charlie turns to his friend and merely shrugs his shoulders at him. Together they head towards Park Avenue, he needs to go over some new numbers with his associate, to see if it is paying off for him.

* * *

><p>He had been right. He definitely hadn't been fooling around with her. He did keep coming to see her and she kept on saying no. She'd catch him in the lounge with his group of friends, and that kept happening, she'd stop in for a drink at the end of the night, see Charlie there and she frown, leaving without touching her drink. It happened more than once so she stopped going there. That in itself was aggravating, for god sake, this is <em>her<em> hotel, shouldn't he be somewhere else, anyway? Didn't he have things to do? She does, she's trying to get them done without distraction. And Charlie's a big one.

This morning he caught her on her way back to the Chelsea after an arduous night of spending time with the Onta in Hell's Kitchen. Thank god she found him before other people did. They had sat together in an alleyway, where he felt comfortable and talked. It was a putrid alleyway but that's just where he ended up feeling the safest, away from all those eyes. They didn't have one incident with the poison until he insisted that she leave for her own safety. He didn't want her to be harmed because as he had confessed, she had been the first person since he came here that had shown him kindness and that she isn't scared of the transformations. Well she is a bit but he didn't have to know that. She had promised him that she'd come back to see him just as soon as she could. He appeared grateful for that, struggling to remain coherent enough to admit he'd like that. She hoped he and those in the surrounding park at 11th Avenue and West 52nd Second Street.

By the time she had reached Penn Station the pink dawn sky had been above her and Rose sighed, she still had about another nine blocks to cover before she would reach the Chelsea, but she couldn't sleep, not yet, she still had to let Jack know what had happened between them and then inform him she'd be going back very soon to say that she was close to convincing him to come back with her is an understatement, she's nearly there. She rubs the sleep from her eyes.

Of course her jovial mood dissipates when she stops on the street opposite the Chelsea. She immediately turns around hoping that he hasn't spotted her. What is this now, a week? He's relentless. He's nearly got her, she wants to say yes, just so she can get it over with and they don't have to see one another again, because wow, she's never been pursued like this before. It's actually grating on her nerves. She's worked very hard not to think about him, despite the near every day meetings, or give in to the thoughts that tell her to go for it. She mentally tells herself no. She doesn't have the time.

She so wrapped up in her thoughts about how to effectively deal with this little problem that is quickly morphing into a larger one that she doesn't feel the hand reach out and rests on her shoulder. She jumps and turns around quickly.

'Jesus, Rose, I'm sorry.' Charlie says, not anticipating that reaction from her. She must have been thinking hard, lost in her thoughts. She slowly lowers her hand from her chest but she's still breathing a bit hard. She closes her eyes and sighs.

'It's my own fault, I wasn't paying attention.' Rose answers and exhales. She leans against the building, just as a wave of exhaustion comes over her. Charlie must have noticed the dark circles under her eyes because he frowns.

'Late night?'

'A bit, yeah, really late.' Rose confirms and feels her mobile begin to vibrate. Why now? Doesn't Jack sleep in at all? He usually does, why not today?

'I was just here…' Charlie begins but is interrupted by Rose who gives him an unimpressed look before it dissolves into a smile.

'I know why you're here. And my answer is yes.' Rose replies, stunning herself, looks like her mind has already decided for her. That can be a good thing, the sooner they get this over with, the sooner he won't be around to bother her anymore and she can give this job her full attention. Whether she wants to admit it or not, Charlie has been on her mind.

Charlie must have prepared a list of arguments to get her to say yes because Rose can see he's trying to come up with something to say, clearly he hadn't anticipated her confirmation and acceptance. 'Seriously?'

'Seriously, you're not going to stop until I say yes, yeah?'

'That's right.'

'So, then, I agree.' Rose can see the quiet delight in his eyes. Not that she'd ever publicly admit it, but she's rather excited as well, it'll be a chance to, as Charlie stated earlier, get to know one another on a different level.

'Perfect so then I can see you tomorrow night?' Charlie inquires and despite her battling emotions of dread at having to do this and excitement at getting to do this and see him, Rose smiles.

'What, not tonight?' She muses and Charlie shakes his head, holding his hand up to acknowledge someone on the opposite street corner. Rose turns to see a man in a dark wool coat nodding at them while he lights up a cigarette.

'No, sorry, plans tonight.' His reply is vague and Rose arches her eyebrow, bristling at the response to her. She'd better get one point across to him, just in case he might have forgotten.

'Just remember, I don't like to share.' Rose reminds him and Charlie smirks at her as he starts to walk towards whomever is waiting for him.

'I know, Rose, the feeling is mutual.'

Rose arches her eyebrow at him as he ignites his own cigarette and she folds her arms. She should have expected a remark like that. 'Time?' She calls to him as he's begun walking towards the stranger there.

'After eight.' He replies to her and Rose places her hands on her hips, watching him greet the man with a firm handshake. The man motions to Rose but Charlie has already started walking to 7th Avenue, apparently not answering that question.

However as the man continues talking, Charlie looks back to her and smiles. Rose finds herself smiling back slightly before the morning crowds hide him from her view. She doesn't linger in the streets any longer and heads towards the Chelsea, through the doors, Adam hasn't arrived yet. Past the check in desk, Elijah worked a double shift; he'll be off today and towards the lift, waiting forever for it to come back to the ground and then another lifetime for it to get to the twelfth floor.

Everything is just as she left it. Laptop left out in the middle of the floor by the sitting area, she had been communicating with Jack before she had left for the night, still undisturbed, her food container from the last time she had brought takeaway from London to New York is still sitting on the glass table next to the laptop. Her favourite tumbler that holds coffee, no doubt drained by now. She really ought to tidy up but instead of doing so she sits on the floor, switching to her stomach and powering the laptop on, she brings up her email and begins typing away the long version of her story, hitting send after she's satisfied she's recounted everything correctly. She grabs one of the decorative pillows and hugs it to her as she sifts through the emails from potential clients wishing to use her for assignments, having gotten her information from Kate. A few from Russia and one from Monaco.

Now, there's a place she'd like to go to. She calls the man from Monaco first and then gets into contact with the Russian one. The woman on the other line is very patient with her shaky accent, promising her that it'll improve and she'll get better at it. Rose is relieved to hear that. She couldn't haven't chosen a harder language to learn but felt she needed to, given that she had been bored and loved being in Russia. It had been hard, but she's getting better. She rolls onto her back and stares at the ceiling in her room, keeping the pillow clutched to her chest.

If she can get the Onta back to London tonight then perhaps that would be her excuse for not having to go to dinner. After all, the only thing she's here for is to help the Onta get back home so they can help him and that's all. Nothing more.

She begins to feel guilty and she isn't even sure why. Charlie did have a very good point. She did save his life and up and vanished. She should have stayed with him until he had gotten back to wherever it is he wanted to go to so at least she knew that he made it there safely. She's sure he'd have wanted the company as forty stitches had been administered to close the slash wound. But she had been too ticked to join him and figured she probably wouldn't have been allowed.

She doesn't want to admit it to herself either, but she is just as curious about him as she's certain he is with her. She also wants to see if there's an attraction between the two of them. She can feel something there and she wants to see if he feels it too. Guess she'll find out tomorrow. The more she lets her mind wander around that thought of dinner with Charlie, a man whose last name she doesn't even know, the more she feels herself smiling stupidly.

She guesses that'll be the first question she asks. Who exactly are you, Charlie? Rose assumes she'll get the same thing so she starts prepping a safe answer that both answers his questions but remains vague. Before she knows it, she's fallen asleep. Still not admitting to herself that she's rather nervous for tomorrow night.


	6. Chapter 6: Present Day

'What are you doing?'

Rose jumps and lets out a cry of surprise, panting as she glares at Jack, setting her clothing down on her bed to press her hand to her chest, shaking her head. 'Dammit, Jack, what the hell? How'd you even get in here?' Rose questions breathless and Jack merely motions to the hall with his thumb. Rose knows he is motioning to the door.

'Door was slightly ajar.'

'And that's an invitation to come in?' Rose wonders and begins folding the clothing she's selected for tonight. Jack notices the little details of her clothing and frowns.

'Thought someone could have broken in, what is all that, Rose?' Jack points to her little items on the bed. Rose turns her back to him and closes her eyes, hoping that she wouldn't have been caught doing this.

'It's just…clothing.'

'The Onta taking you out for a night on the town?' Jack wonders bemused and Rose feigns a laugh. He takes a few steps forward and notices that black dress she's chosen is very pretty. He frowns. 'Client? Hm, I need to work on my phrasing, that didn't sound right. Sounded like I was implying you're a…' Jack begins and Rose waves her hands silence him.

'Shush!' Rose cries, knowing exactly what he had been thinking. She attempts to get the conversation back on track. 'Something like that.'

'Rose…' Jack folds his arms and Rose pleads with him to stop asking.

'Jack, no.'

'Rose, yes.'

Rose relents and knows that he won't relent until she tells him. 'I…am going to dinner.'

'Well at least you'll look nice.' Jack teases and again Rose fakes a laugh at him. He merely grins stupidly.

'No, not by myself,' Rose admits and Jack continues to lean on the doorway frame while Rose brushes by him to look for something in the parlour. He remains silent knowing that if he does so, she'll add the next part of her sentence by herself. 'I'm going with someone.'

Jack arches one eyebrow as she comes back in to her room and throws her heels into the little bag. 'With someone, Rose you work quickly.'

'Jack it isn't like that…' Rose sighs. She might as well keep going, he isn't going to stop. She quickly checks her clock, she's gotta move faster, that nap really set her back. 'Okay, fine, I'll tell you. Do you remember a while ago I was in 1929 on Staten Island?'

'Yeah? So?'

'Okay, so what I didn't tell you was that…I actually ended up helping someone who had been on the receiving end of a pretty severe beating. And had been tossed from a car.' Rose informs him and Jack lets his arms drop to the side as he processes the words.

'Damn…'

'Yeah, so we ran into one another and invited me to dinner, so I said yes.' Rose fibs slightly, keeping out more important details that Jack didn't need to know. Half of that story is true; she just decided to leave out the part that she had been constantly turning Charlie down and how persistent he had been.

'Well…'

'So, it'll be a one time thing, nothing more, I mean I still have a job to do.' Rose interrupts Jack's thoughts and he merely nods at her. Believing her words, Rose believed her words too, after all, what would be different? Dinner once and that was all, Charlie got to keep his promise and Rose would be free from his attempts at inviting her out.

'Kinda strange you two ran into one another again.'

'Coincidences.' Rose agrees and zips up the little bag. She slings it over her shoulder.

'If you can call them that. Do you have everything?' Jack muses and Rose narrows her eyes at him, throwing him an unimpressed look.

'Yes, thank you. I'll come back and gab with you all about it over a glass of wine.' Rose retorts and Jack starts to laugh.

'You bring the wine and I'm down for anything.' Jack confirms and Rose glares at him before it melts and she smiles at him, embracing him tightly.

'Stay out of trouble while I'm gone.' Rose warns and Jack kisses her head before shaking his head.

'I'll think about it. Have fun.'

'Thank you, we'll see how this goes.' Rose replies and shrugs slightly. She didn't mention to Jack that she hasn't been keeping her expectations low. She isn't sure why but she does have a feeling that this could be an awfully long night. She shouldn't be thinking like that but she is. So she attempts to stop herself, seeing Jack to the door and shutting it behind him. She locks it and punches in the coordinates for Manhattan once more. All right, she thinks, let's see how this turns out.


	7. Chapter 7: 1930

Dinner had been good. Really good. So good. She doesn't remember having something that good in a long time. Which in itself is very telling. That means she hasn't had a good proper meal in who knows how long. Usually it's when Jack can coax her to come out, which has even been a while by his standards. It had been hard trying to keep her attention on Charlie because the smell of the food wafting around her didn't help her much. The moment she smelled it, it was always on the back of her mind.

She hadn't even known this restaurant existed on Park Avenue. Probably because they had to actually head down stone steps to get to it, she thought at first that Charlie had been taking her to a speakeasy and had already prepared herself to be less than impressed, but it actually hadn't been bad at all. For a speakeasy, she's sure that's what it was, especially since there was a hotel above them and they share the kitchen. Half of the chefs watch the bottom half and the other half watches the top, at least that's what she had overheard some waiter explain to a man and his date who had never been here before. Well, it didn't matter because that had been the fanciest speakeasy she'd ever been to.

The atmosphere was dim, the lighting low but not uncomfortable nor were they plunged into darkness. The murmur from the other patrons had been low, actually the sounds of the cutlery moving around on the plates, knives scraping, forks being set down, the likes. She really didn't go into this little...well, what's the correct word to use? She hadn't gone into this, whatever _this_ was, with high expectations. But Charlie had done well so far. Oh, and the singer! Charlie had caught her more than once staring at the beautiful singer that had been designated a small section of the back of this restaurant with just a man playing the piano and a microphone. Jazz, yeah she's so grateful the music is as good as it is for this era. Charlie had to get her attention a couple of times because of it. Well, at least he had known that she approved of the music.

What surprised her as well, though, was that the conversation between them never lulled. Rose steals a quick glance up to Charlie as they continue walking through the streets, her insistence of course, the February nights have been warming drastically and suddenly. She wanted to take advantage of it. She will admit it, it was a little hard in the beginning, Charlie had worked so hard to get her Rose had been certain that he would only be interested in the chase, when he had her she thought for sure that he'd immediately have grown bored of her. But he hadn't. Which was funny because he did strike her as that type of person, more thrill in the chase not the capture.

Rose thinks back to the first question she had asked of him. What did he do, she wanted to know. No one flaunts that much money around, but he had coyly replied that he just did a little bit of everything in the business realm. And so she remembers the grocer he accompanied her to. Do something, he had begged Charlie. But that's a very broad interpretation, which leads her to believe that some of his business may not be legitimate. Should she be worried? She's usually pretty good at judging people's characters, but Charlie is rather hard to pin down entirely.

She had caught him a few times studying her carefully when he thought he was in the clear to do so. She didn't mind, hell, she knew she'd garner stares, she hadn't chosen something from this time, instead choosing something from her own. Just a simple black dress, usually the one she gravitated towards when she went out but didn't want to put in too much effort. And she had done the same to Charlie; she just didn't get caught doing it. She thought he looked really good too. She likes grey on him, the dark grey; she had kept that comment to herself, though. No point in getting herself all worked up over something that wasn't going to continue on past tonight anyway. Charlie had commented on her appearance when he came to the Chelsea to pick her up, she had thanked him and that had been the first time she had caught him looking.

She attempts to focus on the conversation they're having now on the way back to the Chelsea. Rose had insisted that she would be fine to find her way back, but Charlie had insisted harder and she gave in so now they're walking on the sidewalk talking about the pros and cons of living in Manhattan. She's not even sure how they got on that subject; her mind had been wandering to their previous conversation in the restaurant. When Charlie had inquired as to what she did, he didn't see her working as some secretary or typist, she had laughed, agreeing entirely that she couldn't picture herself doing that either. Too boring for her.

But she kept her answers just as vague as the ones he'd given her. What did she do, well she worked for herself, businesswoman so to speak. He had seemed intrigued, and had nodded his head, utterly accepting of that response, he hadn't even pried further, and she realised how that came across. So she had to forcibly inform him that she was not a prostitute, nor a madam, didn't own a brothel and not to think of her in that light again. It had been then that he stared at her, now she had the mystery surrounding her. That had been better; she had been surprised Charlie hadn't inquired further. Probably for the best, or maybe he's just waiting for the right opportunity. She isn't sure.

What she is sure of is that she likes him, he's incredibly funny and witty, they had had a good time people watching while they had been waiting for dinner, she doesn't think she's discreetly laughed that hard in while, it had been so nice to just unwind, god she missed it. It had been a good break from her life at the moment. She is rather morose that she needs to forget all this and focus on her job. Then again, now that she thinks about it, Charlie hasn't inquired for another date. She feels a small twang of sadness, she'll miss this.

Especially when the Chelsea's familiar façade begins to materialise, she glances up to Charlie, they've fallen silent when they cross the final street and the Chelsea is but steps from them. Charlie notices that Rose has stolen a glance from him and he smiles at her.

'Thanks for indulging my request, Rose.' Charlie says and pinches the burning end of his cigarette that he had lit up a few streets back. The conversation with Rose had distracted him and now there wasn't a point in continuing to smoke, he finds it distracting while inside talking, not that it stops him often, but he wants to give Rose his undivided attention.

'Thank you for dinner.' Rose answers and smiles at Adam as he pulls the door open for them.

'How was the restaurant?' Adam inquires and Charlie nods at him, Rose heads in before he does.

'Excellent recommendation.'

'Thank you, Mr Luciano, I haven't heard one negative thing about it, except maybe the dampness. But I suppose that comes from sitting in the cellar.' Adam replies and Rose pauses in her step, looking back at Charlie, who has just shaken Adam's hand, with a muted horror and he presses onwards and past her towards the lift.

'Everything all right, Rose?' Charlie wonders, pausing in the lobby. She still stands stupidly close to the entrance, really looking at Charlie with a careful eye. Well, that solidifies her decision, then, doesn't it?

It all makes sense; she doesn't know how she didn't realise it earlier. For god sake everything he said to her on Staten Island had been a clue, she just happened to not be paying attention. Go figure.

_That's funny, that's my nickname._

_What is?_

_Lucky._

Of course she couldn't tell it had been the infamous mobster because of how severe the beating had been, and now…it's not like she had gone around looking at pictures of the people she chose to associate with. Which she probably should have done. No, like she had time for that, she had been busy doing other stuff, and she'll be the first to admit that she's nearly completely in the dark about mob history. Other than the basic facts about operation most of it is new to her, like she can commit from memory all the key players. Then again why the hell is she making excuses? Perfect means of escape. All she has to say is, 'sorry, I don't date gangsters, you know, on account of the crimes you all commit?' And just like that it's over. Done. No questions, nothing.

However she hadn't realised that even though the notoriety of his name awe struck her, she had nonetheless still headed towards him, he frowns as she keeps her stare ahead, her mind panicking at what happens and where she goes from here. She inwardly winces, why does she always get mixed up with people like this? Not even the fact that it has to be a gangster like Charlie, it's just she always seems to attract men like this, oh, she doesn't even know what she's thinking anymore. She's trying to make sense of this whole mess and she finds herself making excuses at the same time.

'Rose?' Charlie places his hand on her shoulder, and she blinks, turning up to him with a smile, not one that he had gotten used to over the course of the five hours they'd been out together, it's an uneasy one, he doesn't get why.

'Yeah, sorry, just thinking about something.' She admits and her gaze falls to her feet, he looks at her shoes as well, wondering if she realises that the answers to her thoughts aren't going to be there.

'Like what.'

'Like how I didn't actually know who you are, not until just now.'

'And?' He wonders, Rose isn't sure if he's missed the point entirely or simply doesn't care. Of course he wouldn't care, it explains so much about the past few weeks.

She steps in the lift and hopes to god he doesn't either, instead choosing to let her go on alone, given the discomfort she's certain she's displaying. He gets in with her. 'I just mean, you never told me your last name.'

'So? I still don't know yours.' Charlie counters and Rose wants to scoff. There is a massive difference in the fame attached to both their surnames. Hers has none, his is the reason the Mafia to this day flourishes, its power considerably halved than now, or what it will be, but still. She shifts her weight from side to side; need to work off the nerves she's feeling in her stomach.

'Guess it just made me wonder why you'd be interested in me.' Rose attempts a different angle so as not to ruin the entire evening, before she knew who Charlie was she still had a great time out with him.

'I already told you why,' Charlie reminds her and Rose merely glances up at him, the first the get off at the twelfth floor, hoping Charlie won't follow her. He does. She worries what she'll say. 'You've forgotten?'

Rose smiles up at him briefly while she fishes out her key from her jacket pocket. 'No, no I haven't.'

'Then what?' Charlie questions and Rose absently shrugs, so close to getting out of this and dodging a massive bullet. Probably quite literally. Rose opens the door.

'It's nothing, I just never expected to meet someone quite like you, Charlie.'

'I hope that's a compliment.' Charlie answers and Rose smiles as she stands in the doorway, she has to stop herself from backing away, she hadn't expected him to stand right in front of her like that. There go the butterflies again. What the hell is wrong with her?

'Of course it is.' Rose replies. There is a dip in the conversation. Rose waits for his question, she knows it's coming.

'When can I see you again?'

There it is. Rose inwardly sighs. How is she going to get out of this one? She says yes to one dinner with a mobster and now she's getting roped back in again and again. Well, it ends now. She can't be doing this, she can't be going out with him. It isn't right. Those bad feelings go to the wayside once more.

'I don't know, Charlie, I don't. I'm just in and out and when I'm not out I'm busy working and when I'm out I don't know when I'll be back.'

'Waiting doesn't bother me.'

Oh. She hadn't expected that. 'It will when I'm never around.' Damn she surprises herself sometimes with what she can pull out on the spot like that.

'I guess we'll just have to see.' Charlie replies and leans in to place a kiss on her cheek. When he pulls away Rose is bright red. He doesn't say any more and heads towards the lift once more.

It takes Rose a few moments to comprehend what exactly has happened but once she does, Rose backs into the room and shuts the door, leaning on it and breathing heavily. It doesn't sate her; she begins pacing around her room, wringing her hands as she attempts to process what in the world had just happened to her. She roots her hands in her hair and tugs, trying to make sense of her chaotic feelings and her strange night.

Okay, it's okay. So she went out to dinner with a notorious gangster. It was just dinner. Nothing happened. Nothing is going to happen again because she can't in good conscious allow it to. Rose shakes her hands out to her side and then holds her hand out in front of her, it's shaking. Why? Why? She doesn't get it. She presses her hands to her mouth. What in the hell is wrong with her? It was dinner, you stupid girl! She mentally shouts to herself. Do not think of pursuing this further, she fights herself, wandering around the room to work out her anxiousness. She won't even acknowledge the way in which she _is_ attracted to him. She knows if she starts thinking about Charlie in that way she's be out the door looking for him. Well, that's a good thing that he's probably already gone.

Rose lets out a nervous breath. It wouldn't hurt to look, would it? She could just peer out the window, confirm that he isn't on the street and then when she sees that he isn't, she can go about her day and when he calls on her again, she'll just say no. She can't. It isn't right. She'll make up some excuse, move to another hotel if she has to, but she will not give in to stupid physical attractions, she knows there's more than that but she's attempt to base it on the most basic of attractions, that way it's easier to scold herself for it.

She presses her lips together until they're a thin line and paces herself a path right to the bedroom window. She then bites her lip and peers around the curtain that's been left open. She opens the window and looks down. She sees nothing but darkness. As she should, it's after one in the morning. Even Adam has left for the night. Charlie isn't down there. Good, okay. That's good. So why doesn't she feel relieved. She feels anxious. Like this ending isn't good enough for her, like a cliff-hanger.

If she goes to bed right now, then she can sleep it off. Wake up and it'll be a distant memory. She attempts to sit on the bed and finds her posture ridged and uncomfortable. She can't get comfortable. She bites her lip again and gets up. What if she…invited him to say for a bit longer? They could talk a bit more…maybe that would be a better ending.

Rose places her hands behind her head as she walks around the room. He's probably already gone. She locks her eyes with the door. There's only one way to find out. Just a few more hours together and then she can get it off her mind and they can part ways properly.

Rose holds her breath and opens the door, not realising that she had already walked there. What is she doing? This is so incredibly dangerous. What is she going to tell Jack when she sees him again? And then there's Jack! Oh god, he'll surely ask her how her little date went and she'll betray herself with her blush, he'll want to know hat happened and she will try to brush him off. He'll become insistent and it'll come out, it always does. She will confess that the man she'd saved on Staten Island was in actuality Charlie Luciano. Oh, she can nearly picture Jack's perfect dumbfounded stare at her followed by all the judgmental things he'll tell her. She grips the doorframe in her hands and closes her eyes. She's so wrong for doing this.

But peers out into halls but doesn't see Charlie anywhere. Good. That's very good; she'll just have to settle for the disappointment. It'll be easier to swallow than actually seeing him and her mouth says something stupid before her head gets a chance to think about the consequences of her actions.

She's nearly to the lifts and still nothing but the nervousness and butterflies in her stomach. She feels like a schoolgirl with a crush. A dangerous crush. But she's gotten this far and no sign of him, that makes her smile from both relief and happiness until she spots a shadow on the wall. Rose rounds the corner she notices Charlie waiting for the lift. Oh god, what has she done?

He turns around at the sound of someone else with him. He sees Rose standing there and he gives her a bit of a smirk. 'Rose?'

She's stuck. The words are stuck, what's she going to say? 'Did…did you want to stay for a bit longer?'

No, no. That's not what she's supposed to say. Because she knows what'll happen…

'Absolutely.'

Rose smiles, she hopes he can't tell it's forced because she turns on her heel and heads back to her room, not waiting for Charlie to catch up. That's fine, okay, so she's messed this situation up royally, but she can still recover it. Spend a few more hours talking, cause she really liked doing that with him, and then he'll be on his way. That sounds simple.

Rose turns the knob on the door and steps into her room, standing in the middle of it, desperately trying not to wring her hands, trying to appear calm and collected when she knows she isn't. It takes everything in her not to jump when the sound of the door shutting scares her back into reality. Okay, here she goes.

She turns around and holds down the shock, she hadn't heard Charlie cross the floor because he's standing in front of her. Damn carpets. She smiles. 'Thanks.'

Thanks? Thanks for what? Yeah, she has a feeling she's be figuring this one out on her own since her brain clearly isn't in control of her mouth at the moment. Charlie merely smirks at her. She's changed. Her demeanour is different. She won't make eye contact with him for long…he brings his hand down to hold on to her elbow, he watches her suck in a breath quickly.

'Am I making you nervous, Rose?'

Rose exhales quietly, her eyes falling to where his hand holds onto her elbow. She shifts her gaze up and gives him a shy smile. 'Yeah, a bit.'

'Why's that?'

'Well…'

'The confident woman that met me in the lobby five hours earlier is gone. And it seems like you've been nervous around me ever since you found out my last name.' Charlie informs her and Rose nearly tells him that's right. She's in the presence of an infamous gangster, wouldn't that make anyone slightly nervous and uncomfortable?

'Well, yeah, just a bit.' Rose confesses and Charlie frowns at her, not really understanding her logic.

'I'm not a dangerous man, Rose. I'm just dangerous to my enemies.' Charlie replies and it makes Rose smile at the sentence he just said. He's the top hitman for his boss, and he's not dangerous? It's funny but she doesn't laugh. This wasn't a good idea; she's got to get him to leave.

'I don't have a doubt about that.' She answers, Charlie gives her a crooked smile. He moves the hand that had been securing her elbow up her arm until it rests on her shoulder. He uses his free hand to linger on her hip.

He's being too forward, and she isn't stopping him, no, she's relishing in it. Why? She wants this. She's just been denying it since the evening started, actually no, since she first met him at the bar all those weeks ago. She's just been telling herself she doesn't want it and even admitting it to herself, hearing her think that thought isn't liberating as she thought it'd be, it makes her feel guilty. Guilty for acknowledging that she wants something physical to happen between them.

If she doesn't want this to go any further than it already has, she doesn't make an effort to stop his advancements, but he can see the thoughts as they pass by her features, her wonderfully dark eyes become cloudy with thoughts and he knows she's attempting to sort through them. He can't really blame her, she's probably never actually, well to be frank, she's probably never dated a criminal before, what sensible woman would? He supposes it's that moral battle within her. To go on, or tell him to get the hell out. He hopes the rather nefarious side of her wins out; he'd rather enjoy stepping out with her once she gets over the discomfort. It looks like it's a hard fought battle.

'So. How goes the battle?' He muses and Rose is taken off guard by his comment but it makes her smile actually.

'Is it that obvious?' Rose wonders and Charlie nods his head, Rose closes her eyes but still smiling, conceding defeat?

'I'm afraid so.'

'I'm afraid I've reached an impasse.' Rose replies with a slight shrug, she notices that Charlie has expertly snuck the hand that had been resting on her shoulder to her other hip. She didn't even feel him move it.

'Then maybe I can help with that.' Charlie answers and Rose doesn't have time to think before he's tilted her chin up and kisses her. She doesn't stop him even if he has taken her off guard; she's just…slow to respond. In fact by the time Charlie has pulled away from her, Rose is able to shake off the daze. She blinks a few times, drinking in the air. That was amazing. Damn. It's as if all her anxiety and fear melted for that small second. What the hell. It's one time only. It'll be something she'll look back on years from now. Go for it, some voice in her head tells her. She'll worry about the aftermath in the morning.

'That actually helped.' Rose replies and Charlie smirks at her. Not revealing that it normally does. Rose looks immensely more relaxed and comfortable now than she did moments ago.

'I thought it m…' Charlie is cut off by Rose pressing her mouth to his. Now it's his turn to be taken off guard. Especially when she wraps her arms around his neck. Okay, she's serious. That was quite the change in demeanour.

Honestly he didn't think he'd get her tonight. She seemed like she wouldn't be interested, merely joining him as a formality because she had been tired of being bugged. Turns out she is more than worth the wait.

* * *

><p>The curtains are open. She knows this because the sunlight is shining on her face, irritating her. So, morning has come. Or afternoon. God, hopefully morning. She doesn't want to open her eyes. Why should she, she could lounge in this comfortable bed all damned day. Oh. Hang on. Her legs are entwined with something else. And, now that she reflects on it, her head isn't on the pillows, nope. And she's cold, no wonder, there aren't any covers on her. Why? No, no, there is definitely something wrong here. She's cold and warm at the same time. Okay, so let's figure out why. Rose finally opens her eyes and blinks away the sun with a frown. She thinks. Warm and cold. Well, she can hear a faint heartbeat and steady breathing. She knows her head is not on the pillow or else she wouldn't be hearing what she is. She's on his chest. Her knee rests tightly against his ribs and she can't move it because he's got one arm resting on it. Uh oh. Okay, well what if she…oh no she can't. His other arm is wrapped tightly around her lower back, keeping her pressed securely to his side. Well, this is going to take some thought, how the hell did she fall asleep last night? Couldn't have been like this…apparently it was because she's like this now. She has to stop herself from jumping out of the bed because she'd fallen asleep tangled with Charlie on the bed, if she jumps she'll wake him, she'll fall off the bed and it'll be a mess to explain. Mercifully he doesn't awaken.<p>

It takes some work and a lot of nervous patience but she manages to discreetly dislodge herself from him and she runs off to the bathroom. Thankful the carpeting is so thick and she shuts the door with a soft click, immediately turning the knobs to the facets and hot water pours out of the show head. Within seconds the steam from the water begins to cloud the posh bathroom while Rose leans over the sink, gripping the ends tightly until her knuckles whiten.

She can hear her heart thumping widely in her chest, it's loud enough she can hear it over the shower noise. Well, she did ask for it. She told herself that she'd worry about it in the morning and that's exactly what's she's doing. Damn is she ever. The worst part is there is no excuse for it. Nothing she can use to explain it away, what she did, she acted purely on primal lust for him. She wasn't drunk, no, she'd only had a few glasses of wine with dinner, and so she had been in perfect state of mind. She just…did it because she wanted to. As if that thought isn't terrifying enough, it means she wasn't in control; she never listens to that little voice that tells her to do things for herself. That voice is usually in a box locked away in the recesses of her mind. But what brought it out? Had they been flirting with one another? Maybe a bit, or a lot. Probably a lot. She doesn't want to admit it but that had been the best sleep she's had in a long time, she didn't wake up half way through the night to toss and turn for hours, or lie awake for hours thinking about everything and nothing. She fell asleep she stayed asleep. Why? Why was last night so different from any other night, aside from the glaring differences?

Rose straightens up and quickly wipes away the steam from the mirror in a swift motion so she can study herself. Is she different? She looks a bit more rested than normal, what time is it? She doesn't know there isn't a timepiece in here. That'll soon go away, though. She'll need to think of a million and one reasons to keep him away from her from now on. What they had ended the moment she woke up, it's time to face reality.

_Why?_

There's that voice again, questioning her motives, making her second-guess herself. Why? Well, that's because they're on two different sides of the fence. In two different realms. That's the reason why. Criminals don't associate with her type.

_What _is _your type?_

Rose smiles. She doesn't know anymore, she's blurred the lines so much it's nothing but a muddled grey to her now. Maybe she connected with Charlie in more ways than one last night. Maybe he sees the criminal side of her.

_Are you a criminal?_

No. Of course not. Not in the way that one's mind immediately jumps to. She's never killed anyone before, but she has stolen things from people, correction she's stolen things back for people. Broken into places before…yeah, maybe she's more of a criminal than she first thought. Rose stares at her reflection, quickly becoming obscured by the steam. She doesn't look like one, but then again she didn't know Charlie was either, not outwardly, anyway.

_It's okay to like him, despite who exactly he is._

It isn't. She didn't…she couldn't, from a moral standpoint, associate with him. Conflict of interest? No, more than that, she just can't.

_Why?_

Because she can't. It's just…it isn't right. Rose looks to the sink. She can't be attracted to him, please; she has to make it stop. How do you stop being attracted to someone?

_You don't. You know that. Don't be stupid. Take it for what it is._

No, she won't. No matter how much it kills her to walk away from this, she will not go on.

_You know you will. The faster you admit it, the faster the feelings of doubt will go away. Don't you remember how good you felt when you let go and gave yourself permission last night? It felt good, didn't it? Why am I asking you, I know it did._

Rose ignores the voice in her mind and attempts to hide from it in the shower. The water is hot, too hot, she adjusts the temperature and then sits on the bottom of the tub, drawing her legs to her chest and rests her cheek on her knees. She's trying hard not to think of dilemma in her mind. She knows if she does then she'll starting hearing the voice in her mind. The voice that wants this. The one she can't listen to, even if it's the one she so desperately wants to.

_Surprise, me again. I don't know what you were thinking; you can't hide from me, Rose. I go where you go. Now, you want to solve this problem, don't you?_

Yeah, she does, she really does. She just wants to do her job so she can get this Onta home to London safely and then she can disappear for a bit a think about what could have been if Charlie had been a different person. Because the more she lets herself think about last night, how much she enjoyed being around him, how he had made her laugh, something so rare in her life now, she really, really liked him.

_Of course you do, he was great, dinner was great and the _sex _was great. More than great. Fantastic. Is that what's troubling you? You regret it?_

No, hell no. Of course not, it _had_ been amazing.

_Good, that's better. See you're coming around._

Is she? She doesn't know, it's complicated.

_It isn't, you're making it complicated. Look, I'll break it down for you. Ready?_

No.

_Good. You like him, don't you?_

Rose closes her eyes and hugs her knees tighter to her chest. Yeah, god help her, yes.

_There, that wasn't so hard to admit, was it? Now, you'd like to see more of him, right?_

When she's free and not trying to do her job with finding the Onta then yes.

_What about when your purpose is finished here? Are you going to come back when this contract with UNIT is over? Or are you going to pack up and disappear, like you always do?_

She doesn't know.

_And that's half your problem, stupid. You need to figure that out. If not, then enjoy the meaningless sex that comes with seeing him while you're here, after the Onta is caught, nothing will keep you here. You can leave. That's it. Don't you think it'd be nice to have someone to go home to, in a mixed up sense. Someone who, after you're done with your contracts, you can pop by here, and he'd be there, waiting to see you._

Rose smiles a bit, stretching her legs out in front of her before she gets to her feet and reaches for soap. That would be really nice, someone else to talk to. Someone else to just…be there for her if she ever needed it. So many times she's needed someone while she's been dealing with the demanding nature of what it is she does. And Jack is the only voice she has. Maybe she could have another. Is it wrong to want that? But she's scared. She doesn't want to get that close to someone again. Everyone who ever promised her that they'd be there for her left.

_That's not true. Not everyone. No. And besides, it's nice to have a support system; it's okay to not want to be alone, Rose. You've been alone long enough, wouldn't you say? Let go of the rules, for once. It's okay to be selfish for yourself. There is nothing wrong with wanting this. You can't help who you're attracted to, who you save…you just happened to be that right place at the right time. If you hadn't have been there, he might have died. Where would the Families be without him?_

But, it's complicated, this idea of hers, isn't it?

_Very much so. What do you know about mob history?_

Yeah, not much she's afraid, virtually nothing. Just key names, key events, she knows it runs deep. Just how deep does it go, well, she supposes she's about to find out about that.

_That's right. You have to be prepared to handle whatever comes with being with an infamous gangster like Charlie. Police, other gangsters, his associates, the likes. Cover your tracks carefully. You'll have to look into it, so you don't accidently change something you shouldn't have or influence the decisions of others._

Yeah, she should do that, pile on some reading, maybe after she gets back from Hell's Kitchen this evening to speak with the Onta again she'll start doing some digging. Rose frowns and turns off the water. Is this really a good idea? Should she really do this? Rose wraps her arms around herself and bites her lip. She begins braiding her hair so her fingers have something to do.

_Stop worrying, it'll be fine as long as you don't get clumsy. Come at this with a level head. Don't fall too hard too fast; we know what happens when you do._

Yeah but her head isn't level at the moment. Rose glances to the still shut bathroom door. She exhales. Yeah, she doesn't want to fall head over heels anyway, the outcome wouldn't be good. Just keep enough distance that she feels comfortable but that he won't know she is keeping a distance.

_You know what I mean. And it hardly ever works like that. You'll fall for him in no time, you always do. History repeats itself, Rose. _

Yeah, she knows that. Still, though, it'd be nice if she could take her time. Rose swallows her nerves and reaches for the door handle, resolved to take it easy, the voice in her head as been strangely silenced, most likely because it knows what she's doing and approves. Course that voice would. She doesn't know what part of her that voice belongs to. It's both rational and irrational at the same time, telling her what she wants to hear but with a stinging truth to the words thought. It isn't the first time and she doubts it'll be the last. She feels as though she ought to name that voice but doesn't know what to call it. The Bitch who always thinks she's right because she is? That doesn't have a good ring to it. Save it for another day, Rose shuts the door softly.

_As someone with a beautiful way of words once said, maybe you hate something that is good for you and maybe you love something that is bad for you._

The voice is silent after that. She doesn't know how long she's been in that bathroom, battling herself, beating herself up over what she wants, but it's been long enough for the sunlight to strengthen and brighten. Just what time is it? She doesn't know, what she does know is that it's cold out in the open compared to the bathroom and she didn't bring a towel with her. She makes a dash to the bed, getting in quietly, under the covers with a little movement as possible. He's still asleep.

The moment she sits she realises that she's exhausted again. So falling asleep should be easy. She draws the covers tighter to her and flips to her side, yawning. She half asleep when she feels Charlie pull her towards him and she blinks, startled, heart pounding loudly in her ears.

'That had to be the longest shower ever.'

Rose attempts to relax, hoping that Charlie doesn't comment on how loud her heart is pounding. She's still adjusting to this, still getting comfortable with this. 'You were awake?'

'Yes, all that shifting you had been doing. What the hell made you want to be awake that early, anyway?' Charlie questions and Rose can the sleep still in his voice. She smiles into her covers. He seems genuinely concerned that there was a reason she was up and moving around.

'What time was it?' She wonders, genuinely wondering since she didn't check.

'After eight maybe closer to eight thirty.' Charlie answers and Rose frowns.

'That's a perfectly respectable time to be awake. Why, what time would you have been up at?' Rose wonders with a smirk and she turns around to him. Yeah, she could get used to this. She's actually missed this. The waking up with someone with her, she hasn't had that since…it didn't matter. She hasn't had it in some time. It's funny what you don't realise you miss until you have it again.

'Add four.'

'Noon?!' Rose cries out in surprise. She hadn't slept till noon since she was a teenager. And even then that feels like a lifetime ago. So much time between then and now.

'That's early, still.'

That's the partying lifestyle talking, Rose thinks. She doesn't comment. 'Half the day is gone, though.'

'No, there is a lot of time left.' Charlie counters and Rose smiles nonetheless. When one doesn't actually go to sleep until the very early hours of the morning, sleeping in till noon and complaining that's early makes sense. She's done it before. Staying up all night, not sleeping until late the next day. She's pushed herself far beyond her limits before. It isn't fun.

'You just may be right,' Rose replies and he smirks at her. She draws him closer for another kiss. 'What time is it?' She wonders when she pulls away, knowing her mobile is in the bedside table drawer but she doesn't want to bring it attention.

'Probably closer to ten?' Charlie guesses and Rose widens her eyes.

'What? No. It can't be. Dammit.' Rose leans over to the drawer and reaches inside, pressing the centre button and the time displays itself. 10.28. That isn't good. She begins to move towards the edge of the bed. Charlie grabs her wrist.

'What's the rush?'

'I have to be in Yonkers for a meeting in half an hour. I gotta go now.' Rose replies in a flourish and while that's true, she does need to be in Yonkers, not this time, her time and it'll take her a few minutes to get ready, she doesn't want to arrive out of sorts.

'Meeting? I can tell you that you won't make it, Rose.' Charlie replies and watches her move around the room looking for items.

'Oh, I know. That's why I have to phone him and push the meeting back to a later time and leave.' Rose answers absently and she reaches for the drawer by Charlie's side of the bed and pulls out her notebook. She flips through the pages until she finds the name she's looking for.

Deciding it would be a better idea to phone out using the phone in her room, Rose grabs it and sits on the ground, the sitting chair placed by the phone is too rigid for her.

She listens as the bed shifts and Charlie get up as well. She feels bad, should she have remained silent? No, the job comes first. Rose inhales and dials the number, drawing his dress shirt tighter to her. Pushing this meeting back is a better idea anyway, all of the work she'd done for it she left in her flat. She'll have to get it first. The phone rings on the other side and she waits for the angry voice on the other side to answer it.

Charlie frowns before he opens the door back to the bedroom, Rose's voice is rising rapidly in anger and in another language all together. He opens the door to see Rose pacing around the living area holding the phone in one hand while she looks furious. He can actually hear the angry voice yelling at her on the other end. He nearly considers going over their to talk some sense back into that asshole but Rose handles it rather well.

'Lis…listen…shut up! Yeah, I did. And I will talk in English if I want to because frankly you're not worth my effort to speak in…yeah. I know. Well _you're_ absolutely infuriating. Now, if you continue to call me names I will not entertain the thought of meeting with you and you can handle that problem on your own,' She inhales sharply, ready to lay into the caller once more but she exhales and shrugs, hanging the phone up. 'Oh well.'

'He sounded pleasant.' Charlie remarks and rose sets the phone down on the little table by the chair.

'He's always like that sadly; he's got a temper on him. He's a petulant child, but, brilliant. Just not as brilliant as he thinks he is. That's why he comes to me.' Rose replies and wraps her arms around Charlie's neck when he rests his hands on her hips. He rather likes that she's walking around in just his shirt. He likes that's she's different.

'Sounds like, after that fight, he won't be calling you again.'

'Nah, he'll ring me again, always does.' Rose replies and kisses him. How can it be that only after one night she's comfortable doing this and that they've been together forever. It's like she's let her defences down and the rest just fell into place. Had it really been that easy?

She didn't know Charlie exceptionally well, but well enough to sleep with him, apparently. Rose suppresses the urge to roll her eyes at herself. But that little voice that been s…justified, it dripped with passion and conviction and that stupid know it all tone. She listened because, well, what does she have to lose? Even the rational side, the side of her that she thought would be protesting with everything in itself to tell her she is wrong for doing this has been strangely silent. But she knows that if she let it, the voice would grow from silence to a booming thunder, then she have no choice to listen to it. For now, though, she likes what's she's doing. And…Yonkers can wait.

As if on cue the phone rings again, piercing the stillness of the room. Rose pulls away with an apologetic smile.

'You're good.' Charlie remarks, assuming that is her 'client,' phoning her back and Rose picks up the phone, pausing before lifting the receiver.

'You have no idea,' She agrees with smirks at him. 'Vy poluchili palku iz zadnitsy ? I'm sorry, is my phrasing inelegant? That's fine. Yes, that'll give me enough time. I'll see you in three hours,' She hangs up the receiver. 'There, I just bought myself an extra hour and a half. Care to stay a while longer?'

Charlie merely smirks at her in return and Rose stands on her toes to kiss him better. There are still a million and one things he wants to inquire about, but right now, he isn't sure he could remember his own last name. See the strange thing is with Rose, her…talents, in the bedroom don't put his mind at ease that she isn't a moll, but he fears those questions will have to be asked of her at another time.

That is if he can remember them.

* * *

><p>It has been three weeks since that night and morning in her room at the Chelsea. Rose avoids a man reading the newspaper and walking; this era's equivalent of texting and driving. She knows she's getting looks. The clothing she had decided to wear to one mission in the future translated into her forgetting to change into something a bit tamer. But still, there isn't anything she can do about it now. She had seen the Onta in a worn old trench coat and shabby hat carefully trying to conceal himself into the crowds, not that he was doing a good job because people noticed, people always notice those who don't fit into the standards common to them. The unusual make people uncomfortable. Especially in Hell's Kitchen, one feels threatened one will shoot. She knows this. She's seen it happen. That's why she's going down to the little shop the Onta has holed up in. If she can't make him come with her then she'll have to…stun him and go back that way. Knock him out for a while. He can't continue to hide in New York City; he could meet a grisly end that way. He's the unknown. People want answers for everything and he can't give them one. Once mass panic sets in it's nearly impossible to put out, like a wildfire. It has to work through the system. She doesn't want him to meet an end like that.<p>

She's slowly gained his trust ever more by spending more time with him. She even learned his name, Pollock. And he liked her name because it was short and easy to recall. She laughed and he had smiled. The transformations seem to slow down when she's around him, maybe because he's comfortable around her and the fear trigger isn't there. Now…she's managed to track him into a bar, tavern…speakeasy? Whatever they're calling them now. Thankfully it's early in the morning still, before the blue-collar workers have snuck down on their lunch breaks to have a pint. Just the drunks are in there at the moment.

Rose circles the establishment, wondering how to get him out safely and without being noticed. If he's noticed, it could trigger the transformation and then she'll really have a problem on her hands. She won't be able to hide that from everyone. As she circles, her mind slips between the task at hand and what's transpired in the three weeks since the Chelsea. He's come to see her twice more, when she allowed it. The one time they didn't even make it out, they spent the entire night in her room. She hadn't cared, it had been amazing. She also had read as much as she could while she had been back in London about the history, not that there had been much, a general overview by informants rounded up by the police looking to cut deals, then again they'd be truthful accounts no doubt. And then there had been RICO. Yeah, they aren't going to like that come thirty to forty years.

But…the man she had read about, the man she is seeing now…they almost didn't match. Had Rose not had a sense of who he was, the only reason she knows is because she's capable of it too, she knows he's concealing the violent streak that runs through him. Well, he hides it very well. His violent streaks makes him dangerous because she knows he'll eliminate all those in his way, her streak, not that it's violent, more methodical but it makes her focus and efficient. She knows she will go on the hunt to disable the enemy. She wonders if that's why they've bonded so well, there is a mutual understanding, not that Charlie knows what she does, she just wonders if he senses it. Senses that she's more of a criminal than she lets on, more than she cares to admit.

Charlie is nothing but affable with her, though. Of course she's certain that if they were to ever be out together and someone crossed paths with him in a bad way, Rose is sure she'd see it. But…that time hasn't come yet and when and if it does…is she prepared to make a choice? Would she have to? She's been turning a blind eye to everything she knows is coming up and that he may have done so far and is that compromising her morals? Why is she thinking about this again? Well it's simple. She knows it's wrong and she can't stop herself. And she doesn't know why.

She comes back to the front of the building just in time to see two men leave the front shaking their heads. She leans against the building listening to the men as they leave, something in there made them uncomfortable. Moments after they pass another couple men head out. This isn't good. She checks the mags in the Icer guns concealed underneath the leather jacket. She has two full ones for back up. Let's hope she doesn't need them. But…if a transformation gets triggered, they may not be enough.

She also reaches into the pocket of her jacket, fingering the small metal-wired halo that sits there, just waiting for her. She thought that she had said goodbye to that stupid persona after the incident but…who'd have thought it'd be the perfect guise to slip into when she needs to remain utterly anonymous? Every time she does it she thinks by to that mission. She detests it but it's saved her more than once since then. It irks her more than she lets on. She'll have to tap its cloaking mechanism once more.

She takes a deep breath and slowing opens the door, walking in carefully, scanning the room. The bar is to the left, a few stools there, empty. Tables scattered around, the majority of them empty as well. A few men sit around a round one by the windows and in the corner, where the light doesn't seem to shine as brightly there is a lone figure, taller than the rest of the men with his eyes cast down at the table, hands in his lap, how he made it this far without setting a trigger off is astounding. Maybe he's getting the hang of it.

Rose is nearly at the end of the bar when the bartender clears his throat and she turns over to him with a frown.

'You know him?' The gruff man wonders, Rose can see the uneasiness in his grey eyes and Rose shrugs her shoulders at him. His tone suggests he is accusing her of letting him out of her sight.

'Who wants to know?'

'Don't like the vibe he's been giving off, scaring off my business. You know him, then, you take him with ya. The pair of ya ain't welcome here.' He informs her and Rose scoffs, continuing to walk towards the table.

She slides into the empty chair in front of him and smiles when his eyes lift to hers for a briefest of moments. 'It was raining. I…got cold.'

Rose smiles sympathetically and puts her hand out on the table. 'I know, I can see that. You found yourself a nice coat to keep you warm but it wasn't enough, was it?'

'No…'

'Is it warmer in here for you?'

'Yes…'

Rose smiles but she sees the look of discomfort in his eyes. 'But it's not enough, is it?'

'No…' He agrees and Rose nods her head in understanding.

'Then come back with me,' Rose begs and again he gives his head a quick shake. She tries not to become impatient. 'Please?'

'I don't want…to be experimented on again.' He replies firmly and Rose immediately shakes her head.

'No, no. They won't. They will make you comfortable while they attempt to figure out how to make you better.' She promises but it seems to fall on deaf ears.

'What if they can't?' He wonders seriously and Rose swallows unsure of how to give him an effective answer that will satisfy him.

'They will. They're dedicated.'

'No, you just mean they're dedicated to my capture. They don't want me running around their history. Afraid I'll change something.' He replies and Rose shakes her head quickly, truthfully she knows that's a part of it. However she doesn't want to reveal that to him.

'All we want is to help you, nothing else.'

'I don't know if I can trust you…' He answers seriously and Rose presses her lips together unsure of how to make him see that she cares for his well being but at the same time completely understanding of why he'd be distrustful of her. Humans in general.

The sound of gunfire erupts outside and people begin to scatter, screaming as the bullets tear through the streets. Rose whips around in her chair and stands completely unsure of what the hell is happening right now. The bartender merely shakes his head and Rose turns to him with a confused look.

'Goddamn fucking gangsters. This shit has got to end. Bloody war. Pardon my language, miss. No disrespect.' The man replies and Rose waves him off as she continues to stare at the window and chaos erupting in front of her.

'Oh, sure, no worries, who's war?' Rose questions and the man shrugs indifferently.

'Gangsters, fucking Italians are warring with one another, spilling into Irish territory, getting them Irish gangsters worked up. It's a goddamn mess. Again, miss, my language.' He apologises and Rose shakes her head at him, not caring much.

'Fractions?' She guesses and again the man shrugs his shoulders, setting the glass he'd been cleaning back on the glass shelves.

'Not sure, two old timers from Sicily. That's all I know but the body count is getting larger,' The bartender informs her and then turns to look at her but notices the man she'd been sitting with starting to act…antsy. 'Uh, miss, your friend…'

Rose turns over to where the man is pointing and widens her eyes. 'Oh no…Pollock, come on, you can fight it…' Rose pleads but notices the black veins have begun to appear on his neck, racing higher and higher.

'The sound…that sound…I remember it on Manitou when _they_ came. That noise…' The veins blacken further and Rose can see she's going to be engaging him in a fight. Oh god, why here? In broad daylight…so much for uncover and not drawing attention to herself. It's a fear trigger; fear makes him unpredictable maybe even more so than anger. Now he's got nothing to lose.

Rose turns back to back to the bartender who is watching with a stunned and horrified expression. Especially when the wings come out and he flexes them. 'What the fuck?' He shouts and Rose glances to Pollock and then back to the bartender.

'You should be running.' She and Pollock say together and he dashes out from around the bar and out the door. Well that was easy. Rose takes a small step forward.

'Rose…I don't want to hurt you…' Pollock confesses and Rose can see he's struggling to maintain control. But it's quickly slipping through his fingers. Rose fingers the metal halo in her pocket.

'No, I know but I fear we might hurt one another. Are you nearly gone?' Rose questions and he nods his head.

'I am. I'm sorry.'

'No, I know,' Rose admits and she takes the halo out, opening her mouth and slipping it around her back tooth. She stares at Pollock with her new pale green eyes. 'See, I can change too, but mine's to protect my identity. I want to help you, but I'm afraid that should I have to, I'll take you back with or without your consent.'

That seems to infuriate him because he rises from the table and in a swift motion it is lying across the room. Rose takes a step back and then fishes to the elastic that is still sitting on her wrist from the last mission. She ties her newly acquired bright red, long curled hair. It's almost as if thinking about the last mission she'd been on. Which had only been about five hours ago. She is still a little sore. But it doesn't seem to matter; Pollock continues to advance on her.

Rose can see that a man reading the newspaper in the corner table by the window hasn't seen the Onta in his new form, or if he's seen anything at all he's got his nose in the paper and Rose frowns. Oblivious much?

'Uh, sir, might want to get out of the way, things are about to go down. I wouldn't want you to get hurt.'

'No thanks, love. Interesting article here.' The man replies, fading Northern accent, must have immigrated here some time ago but still that doesn't mean he'll be safe what if the Onta attempts to attack him? Though he seems to be focused on her solely, good thing or bad thing, Rose hasn't decided yet.

'Sir, I really must insist…'

Rose doesn't get a chance to finish her thought because Pollock has turned suddenly and driven his tail into her abdomen with a fierceness to it that sends her backwards, flying off her feet and through the bar's window. She crashes through it loudly, drawing attention from passersby and landing on the sidewalk with a crunch. Rose sits up and inhales sharply, trying to replace the wind that had just been knocked out of her. She tries to drown out the screams and shouts of surprise while a few people attempt to her help her up, asking if she is all right but she hastily brushes them off. Getting to her feet slowly, Rose shouts at the crowd to get back, just in time, too because Pollock steps through the window to screams from people as they scatter.

Rose pulls her Icer gun from her jacket and holds it up to him. As a sign of goodwill and hoping that he'll believe her, Rose puts it back into her jacket. It doesn't do any good because he still lunges at her. And Rose knows she's lost him to the sickness. She jumps back and raises her fists in defence; trouble is he's rather tall. Very tall. This is going to be a chore and she's already exhausted but she can't have him get distracted and go after civilians.

Again he lunges at her, the awkwardness that he had first displayed when he attacked her is nearly gone, he's getting more proficient. Also not a good sign. Rose ducks as he swings, she feels the hair whoosh over her head and she throws her fist right into his abdomen. He grunts but it doesn't faze him and he knocks her back to the ground. Rose blinks the spots out of her eyes, that hard crack to her head from the landing instantly produces a dull throb to her head. Pollock reaches down and grabs her by the front of her shirt and jacket. She can feel the coldness of his claws as they graze her chest, the sharpness to them easily piercing through her shirt. She inhales sharply as he brings up to his eye level. She's quite the distance from the ground. The gasps and screams from the crowd that has gathered from curiosity but not dispersed because of it, cause Rose to see the strain it puts on him, trying to concentrate on getting himself together but distracted by the gawkers. And then the police arrive.

They pile out in waves, guns drawn at Pollock and repeatedly shout at him to let her go. She can feel the grip tightening and the little trickle of blood that runs down her chest from his claws. The sound of guns cocking isn't helping things much; it's adding stress to the situation. Multiple people close to the officers are yelling to shoot now, but they hesitate, probably because they have no idea what they're dealing with. And besides, he isn't really hurting her, it's more of scare tactic.

'Set the dame down, nice and slow!' One cop orders, putting on a brave face but Rose can see the fear pass across his eyes. His hand trembles and the gun shakes. Yikes he could fire and hit her instead. Pollock won't do anything they say, he's too scared and fear is commanding his actions.

'Listen to me! Do not shoot, you understand me?! You shoot, you'll start a rampage!' Rose calls to them and they exchange a few looks before focusing on her once again. 'That goes for anyone else armed in this crowd!' A direct call at the potential gangsters in the crowd.

Uneasiness passes through the crowds. A murmur starts and Rose turns back to Pollock. She attempts a reassuring time to see if it'd help. It does, slightly. He begins to lower her to the ground and she believes she nearly has him when a shot rings out and strikes the exterior of the speakeasy she'd just been thrown out of. The veins blacken further and he grows more terrified. Bringing her closer to him again with a small shake.

'Hold your fire!' Another cop shouts and Rose reaches to her thigh where the one Icer guns is located. She grips it in her hands and aims it at the cops, thoroughly annoyed by their actions.

'Miss, lower your weapon or we'll shoot!' A cop yells to her from behind the side of a Ford Model B. She glowers at them.

'I told you not to fire! You've upset him. I'm better off doing this on my own, you'll hinder me. So, you're all going to take a nap. I'll not see you in about four hours.' Rose declares and squeezes the trigger. The .40 calibre holds fifteen rounds in the mag. Before she runs out of ammo in the one gun, she reaches for the one on left thigh and stretches over Pollock's arm so she can immediately fire the moment it runs out. When she's finished she mentally counts that she's used twenty-three rounds. What an utter waste.

A woman looks down to the cops as they lay sprawled in the streets, over the hoods of the Model Bs and one another. 'You've killed them!' What she doesn't see that is instead of blood, there is a purple stain on each of their uniforms.

'Relax, lady, they aren't dead. It's a mild sedative. They'll be awake in four hours,' Rose answers impatiently and puts her guns away. When she's finished she puts her hand on Pollock's arm. 'See? It's okay now…'

To her relief, Pollock begins to set her down, slowly, in small increments until her feet hit the ground and he lets her go. Rose exhales softly and smiles at him. She believes she's starting to see some sanity restored because the veins begin to go an ashen colour and he pats her head a few times.

'I'm sorry…'

'I know it's hard for you…' She begins but is interrupted by the crowd getting wild now that she's on the ground and she's knocked out the cops, no doubt they want her to answer for that. They should also probably move back a few feet, just in case.

'Miss! Come here, while the creature is occupied!' A man steps forward with his hand extended but Rose shakes her head.

'His name is Pollock and no, I will not.'

'It has a name?' Someone else calls and Rose folds her arms in confused anger.

'Of course he has a name! Everyone has a name,' Rose replies seriously and glances to Pollock who seems to be terrified of being separated from her. Rose can see it and she steps in front of him so she can make him look at her. 'Pollock, look at me, yes, that's good. No, no, me. Good. Listen to me carefully, okay? I am not going anywhere. You and I are going to go back to London. Okay?'

Whoops, shouldn't have mentioned London, he'll think of UNIT and sure enough the grey veins become back like ink. She curses her stupidity. Right, well then, she'd better be prepared to fight because Pollock takes a step forward and shoves her backwards, hard. She flies into the side of an Oldsmobile and groans, getting to her feet shakily.

'No!' Pollock yells at her and Rose shrugs off her black jacket and passes it off to the man that is standing beside her, she's annoyed he didn't offer her a hand. The man stares at the jacket and then to Rose in confusion. She turns back to him.

'Don't lose that, yeah? It's my favourite.' Rose instructs and sighs. She really doesn't want to do this.

The crowd watches in stunned silence as the young woman and the creature start to engage in a one sided fight. One sided because of how much taller and…alien, strange. He's big and violent; the little redhead doesn't stand a chance against this brute of a creature. They hear more cop cars and sirens that fill the street. Hopefully they can assist her. She doesn't seem to be doing that bad of a job on her own though.

Rose ducks out of another swing, rolling on the ground and getting back to her feet in a flourish. Pollock begins to run after her and Rose widens her eyes, skipping a step while she starts to run down the sidewalk, the crowd thins dramatically to give them ample space, not wanting to be apart of it but curious beyond belief, that's what's keeping there.

She spots a way to get around him and Rose runs up the front of a Model A and onto the roof, jumping onto a clothed awning and flipping headfirst back onto the sidewalk turning around to see Pollock stop and slowly move his gaze over his shoulder until he sees her. She smiles and he lunges after her once more. Rose widens her eyes and takes off running again.

She hisses when she feels his claws slice through her back and she slows to a jog, hoping that she can fight him into submission. She ignores the warm sensation of the blood running down her back, facing Pollock he swings at her again and Rose jumps back. He recovers faster and spins around quickly, driving his tail into her stomach once again. She gasps and falls to her knee, wrapping one arm around her mid section. However as he advances Rose hastily gets to her feet and does a back flip to avoid another swipe. It hurts her stomach immense but she ignores it. She raises her fists.

As Pollock reaches for her, Rose avoids his attempted snatch of her and drives her fist into his abdomen. He flinches and grows angrier. Especially when her uppercut causes him to stumble backward. The cops are still on their way; Rose exhales shakily and swallows as he runs at her. She waits until he's nearly upon her before she takes a few small running steps and jumps into the air performing a mid air roundhouse. Her foot connects with Pollock's face and the momentum sends him stumbling to the ground. Rose stands over him and swallows.

'Please, will you come back with me?' She questions desperately and there is a silence between them. Even the gathered crowd has fallen soundless.

Abruptly he is on his feet before Rose can react and he has her in his grip, hoisting her above his head and throwing her into a fruit cart that had been abandoned by the bar that they had met in. The crash is audible and the crowds gasp. She breaks the cart beyond repair and Rose slowly pulls herself up. Who'd have thought landing on a bunch of lemons would be like landing on rocks? She wipes the blood from under her nose and as she begins to pull herself up she widens her eyes and grabs a plank of wood she hadn't managed to break and Pollock throws himself at it, Rose does her best to hold him off but he pushes her backward until he manages to take the plank from Rose and pick her up by the front of her shirt and toss her back in the opposite direction.

She rolls a few times before she finds herself and stops, kicking herself back up and running towards Pollock who misses her and she throws another punch at his stomach, he hinges and she twists around, driving her elbow in next and then another swift punch his to his kidney. That one brings him to his knees and Rose cautiously walks up to him trying to sense that through that panting he's doing if he'd attack. She's about to open her mouth once more to get him to comply with her requests when he reaches forward and swings at her.

Rose barely has time to jump but she feels his claws tear through her shirt and her flesh. She gasps from the pain that jolts through her. She presses her hand to her stomach and pulls it away. Her hand has blood on it. She can't concentrate on it long because all of a sudden Pollock is on his feet and running at her. Rose heads down the sidewalk, hearing his thunderous footsteps behind her, she uses a stone wall to jump onto and then push off of it, reaching out for a tall tree branch that she uses to swing, building momentum as he draws closer and closer until she times her kick perfectly, her feet hitting him squarely in the chest. Pollock is sent backwards, landing with a hard crunch onto the ground and Rose swings off of the tree branch, landing a few feet from Pollock, stumbling a bit. That last toss into the cart really did some damage. She can feel the blood running down the side of her face from the cut she's surely sustained on her forehead, actually as she frowns, she can feel it at the base of her hairline. Not that she wants to go looking for injuries, not since Pollock is getting up slowly. There goes the headache and the pleading nature of her mind to stop. Yeah but she can't. So let's go, push it aside.

They run at one another, closing the gap quickly as Rose rolls out of the attempt swing from Pollock and she drives the heel of her boot into his lower back before turning and then using her left foot to strike the back of his knee. He stumbles and swings around, his forearm connecting with her head and Rose is on the ground once more, hastily getting to her feet. They're at one another again; she's trying to anticipate Pollock's movements as she lands a side kick on his chest, flipping herself backward to avoid his strike. They wonder if this is for a film, a new release for the cinemas, because, honestly…where does a woman learn to do that?

That last flip causes her vision to double and her equilibrium is tested. She has to close her eyes and press her hand to her head, even though she can hear Pollock approaching quickly and the frantic cries from the crowds to move. She can't, if she moves she knows she'll fall. When he grabs a hold of her, squeezing her tightly in his grip until she cries out, Rose begins to feel the air getting crushed out of her lungs, she gasps for air but it gets stuck in her throat.

The more the officers yell at Pollock to drop her, threatening to shoot him on the spot, the harder he holds her, she can't even cry out any longer. So she turns to the cops, having no idea where they've come from they must have only just arrived, hoping that by making eye contact with them, they'll stop. Of course the crowd is pleading with them to shoot him now and save her.

'No…don't,' Rose summons the last of the strength she has to both plead with them and reach for her Icer gun on her right thigh. She hated that it had to come to this. 'Don't shoot…'

'Miss, we don't shoot now, he'll squeeze the life outta ya.' One cop calls to her but she shakes her head, which is surprisingly light at the moment.

'Let…me handle…it,' Rose replies with effort. She locks eyes with Pollock but she can tell that while he recognises her, there isn't much he can do to stop himself from crushing her. 'I'm sorry…' Rose whispers and places the barrel of her gun on his chest. She hesitates before pulling the trigger.

It shocks him, the crowds gasp and the police lower their own weapons. Pollock stumbles back, his grip on her loosens but he doesn't drop her, Rose inhales a large breath, choking on it as she pulls the trigger again. Still he doesn't succumb to the sedative nor drop her. Third time she pulls it she can see the effects beginning to hit him. She scrambles to push herself out of his grasp before he falls with her, backwards wouldn't be bad, forward…which is what is starting to happen, Rose glances over her shoulder to the quickly approaching concrete. Rose barely has time to cover her head before Pollock falls forward, crushing the air out of her again.

The crowd watches the green creature fall on the little redhead. They can see parts of her black trousers and they fear that whatever is on top of her has crushed her to death. The crowds hold their breath.

Slowly they see a hand emerge from under the creature and grip the side of it tightly, she keeps pushing and pushing until she manages to flip the creature onto it's back and she continues to lie there, staring up at the sky before she groans and sits up, rising slowly to her feet. She isn't standing long before she drops to one knee and winces, a few people in the crowd gasp and a few start towards her, ready to help her up but she apparently doesn't need it. She holds out her hand to stop them while she pulling herself up again. She has a frown on her face and stumbles forward slightly as she carves out a path, staggering to the man in the overcoat that is holding her leather jacket. The crowds immediately part for her and the man realises he's being singled out so he swallows nervously and holds out her jacket. Rose gives him a stern smile and a nod.

'Ah, thanks.'

'You're…you're welcome.' The man replies. She takes it and slowly puts it on, taking a mental inventory of her injuries. The first of which she can feel when she dons the jacket is the immense pain that erupts from her side. Bruised ribs.

The crowds watch, they can see the struggle the redhead walks with. Her once glossy red hair, deep red, has lost its sheen, covered in dust. The cut on her forehead just under her hairline has stopped bleeding but it left a visible trail down her left side of her face, together with the slash marks, still fresh, the blood still in the process of drying and those on her back, and those are the only ones visible. Hundreds of bruises and cuts litter her body.

Terrified for her safety as she bends down to check out the body of the creature that had attacked her, the crowds hold their breaths. Even the cops holster their weapons and some push their hats up and out of their faces. Rose can feel the eyes of the gathering crowds and she knows it's time to go. She rests her left hand down on the ground to steady herself while she reaches in to the inner part of her jacket to retrieve her mobile phone. Using her hand to push herself up, Rose dials the number. She closes her eyes and wishes greatly that she could sit.

'Kate? It's me. Yeah. I got him. Yeah. Yes. Uh…sorta. Yes, I will fix it. Fine. We're coming back. Keep Hennessey away from him and me. Jack there? Good. No, he's been sedated, took three rounds. No…I didn't make a scene…' Rose trails off and presses her finger to her lips to keep the crowd silent. That's fine by them; they're stunned to silence. 'Kate, can we talk about this at HQ? I really need to sit. Long story. Okay, bye.' Rose presses end and sighs.

She places her mobile back into the pocket and pulls out the manipulator instead. She turns around so her back is to the crowd while she straps it to her wrist and reaches into her mouth to pull off the metal halo that had been around her tooth. Again there is quietness to the crowds as they watch the red hair disappear and be replaced with blonde hair. She bends down and puts her hand on the creature's shoulder and they disappear into a flash of light. Nothing remains of them, except perhaps the mess they made.

The cops begin searching for clues, running up and down the streets shouting orders to one another while the man in the bar who had been reading the newspaper lowers it and folds it in half, neatly placing it on the table and smoothing it out once with his hands. He stands and walks out the door, curious as he supposes he could have stepped through the gapping hole that used to be the window but why draw more attention to himself? He stands on the streets and observes the scene mildly impressed. He watches the police interviewing the bystanders, them attempting to describe the Onta; too bad they're not even close. This will surely make all the papers here within hours. Good thing, a small stroke of luck, no reporters had shown up but he imagines they'll be here within moments.

Maybe he can help after all.


	8. Chapter 8: Present Day

'Rose, how are you making out in there?'

Jack's voice of concern floats to her but she remains silent for some time before she decides to answer him.

'Surviving…' Rose trails off double checks to ensure the bathroom door is locked. For the one-hundredth time. It still is, like the last time she looked. At least she is out of the tub now. That had been a chore, and stupid her she decided that cleaning the redness from the aggravated wounds to her mid section and back because of the Epsom salts. She's sure Jack heard her cursing up a storm because of it. But she hadn't cared, the sting she'd get used to but her achy muscles had demanded the relief. And it hurt her more dragging herself around. So the moment she got used to the sting, she drew her knees to her chest, more cursing had taken place, and rested her cheek on her knees. Closing her eyes and trying to relax.

Thankfully she walked away without any limbs seriously sprained or broken, just over worked. It was just her ribs she had to concentrate on healing now. After a long couple days worth of sleep, she is determined to make it to Jupiter in the far away future. She had stumbled upon some wonderful medicinal salve that helps accelerate the healing factor, plus it made it look like she hadn't been attacked at all. She's certain that's what prevented the scarring on her arm from another mission. Problem was is that she's run out of it, so she'll have to acquire more and slather it on her stomach and back. First things first…she's gotta sleep. In her time without being bothered. She knows Jack has seen to that.

It's terrible, she's so grateful that he's here with her, protecting her from Kate for as long as he could, answering questions for her and making sure she got back to her flat safely. Actually he insisted on it, she didn't have the energy to say no to him. They had to attend this meeting. It had been the mission. The debriefing from the capture of the Onta had run several hours past the finish time.

But they had run late. People asking stupid questions about where they need to go from here. And then Kate spent another few hours wanting her to recount every little detail about the fight and the conversation leading up to the fight in her office. Rose had gotten the feeling that Kate didn't exactly buy the story about how she didn't make a scene. _Marion Smith, you always make a scene intentionally or not, _Kate had said. Gee, thanks. Jack had come in to get her and take her home, despite protests from Kate.

She's lucky to have him taking care of her but also wishes that now he would go home. She'd be fine, she'd tell him but he'd insist that it would be for her own good that he stay with her. Just in case anything terrible were to happen.

She's careful when she wraps the bandage around herself again. Her mind wanders though and a couple of times she strikes herself hard by accident. She winces. She's been thinking about _him_. Charlie. What's she going to do to end things? After all there isn't anything keeping her there, mission accomplished. She goes over different scenarios over and over in her mind, trying to anticipate all reactions, answers and questions. She tries to develop answers to them all exploiting all avenues.

They can't have gotten too attached, right? They had only been out four times tops, so nothing too serious. Just…the physical aspect had gotten very serious very quickly. God had it ever. She pushes those thoughts from her mind, maybe she ought to call him when Jack eventually falls asleep, just to let him know that she's alive but to inform him that she needs to stay away for a few days, just to give herself a window to recover. Then she could see him and tell him firmly that it is over, she enjoyed what they had but there isn't anything there for her anymore. He's her fling and vice versa. Although she's probably just another notch in his belt and strangely enough, she isn't really bothered by that, not in the slightest.

But she did get the impression sometimes that he wanted more from her, he wanted her exclusively. She couldn't commit. Still can't, her job has her all over the place or like now, for instance, it has her on her butt after having kicked her butt. Great now a headache is coming on. Time to forget the world for a little while and sleep.

Slowly she gets to her feet, unsure as to what she's going to say and while it is a concern for her, she doesn't much care to sit and figure it out now. Each step is hard and her muscles tighten greatly when she lifts her foot. But she ignores it and unlocks the door, stepping out to see Jack poking his head out and around from the kitchen. He shakes his head at her and she smiles, heading towards the lounge.

'Hungry?' He calls and as she sits she thinks.

'Nope.' She answers back, curling herself up on her side and then into a ball until the aggravation from the slices on her front and back make her scowl so she sits up again. Jack comes out with a plate full of toast. He shoves it under her nose until she takes it and then sits on the couch beside her.

'How're holding up?' He questions and watches her eyes light up at the smell of toast. Oh, Rose, you can fool everyone but me. He smiles as she takes a bite.

'Me? How's your eye?' Rose deflects and he touches the purple mark under his right eye and then to the puffiness around it. Hurts like hell.

'Good. I think. Everyone digs it. Shoulda seen the looks I was getting on the way home.' Jack answers and Rose gives him an unimpressed look but she can't hold it and soon she's smiling. How she didn't manage to lunge back at that piece of trash astounded her. Just one hit and that piece of trash was down.

'Mm, do they now?'

'How'd you know he was gonna try and do that?' Jack questions and Rose takes another bite from the toast. It tastes really, really good and she had no idea she was as hungry as she is until she'd taken that first bite.

'Because he did that to me before. Shot someone right in front of me because he thought he was getting unruly. Jack, I coulda killed him there. Worst part was, nothing ever happened to him, no talk or warning. Nothing. Life went on.' Rose replies, shifting uncomfortably to cross her ankles.

'Yeah, no kidding. Bastard is lucky I saw him reaching for that Magnum. What ,did they all turn a blind eye to him?' Jack wonders and touches his eye again, damn that hurts.

'Welcome to the reason why I left in the first place. I can't stand him or the way he operates,' Rose confesses and takes another bite. She chews slowly, thoughtfully. 'Is it wrong that I nearly laughed when you threw that punch and it almost knocked him down?'

'No, actually I was rather surprised myself because let me tell you something, Rose, that guy's punch packs a wallop.' Jack replies and Rose smiles at him.

'So does yours, apparently.'

'Yeah, well, that was lucky. Took the guy off guard.' Jack replies simply and leans over to take a piece of toast from Rose.

'You're selling yourself short. Truthfully, I'm glad someone did it, if it wasn't you it was gonna be me.' Rose admits and Jack laughs. Drawing her close to him so he can put a kiss on her head.

'Can't say I blame ya, probably look the other way, too,' Jack replies and sets the half eaten toast back on her plat. Rose frowns at him. 'What are you gonna do once you're all rested up?'

'I have to go back to New York.'

'What, why?'

'My things are there, laptop. My stash of other things, money, the likes…and…I feel as though I should say goodbye…' Rose confesses and Jack stares at her, confused by her words.

'To who? That guy you saved? The one you went to dinner with, which, by the way, you never brought wine so we couldn't cluck like hens.' Jack replies slightly affronted she'd forget and Rose shrugs innocently.

'I feel as though it's the right thing to do.' Rose answers simply and decides to omit the parts about them rolling in the sheets. Yeah, he didn't need to know that. But Jack doesn't seem to believe her because he questions her further.

'Saw him just the once?'

'Yes…'

'I don't think I believe you…' Jack trails off and takes a bite from the toast. He chews it slowly as he eyes her, hoping to see her betray herself with a subconscious facial expression. It takes everything in her not to reveal anything. She can't tell him who Charlie is, he'll judge her immensely and tell her how wrong she is for doing it.

'You don't believe me?' Rose repeats with a small smile and Jack innocently shrugs his shoulders, mouth still full of toast. Rose leans towards him as he mumbles something that she can't make out.

'I don't, something was different about you when you came back after that date.'

'I couldn't hear what you said but I think I got the just of it. It wasn't a date, Jack, just a casual get together. Only once, and what do you mean I was different. I'm still the same.' Rose protests but Jack shakes his head.

'No, couldn't place it you just seemed…lighter.' Jack remarks and Rose frowns. Who'd have thought one night with Charlie would apparently change her outwardly. She inwardly scoffs; actually she's rather sure that Jack is seeing things that aren't really there. He has to be.

'Might have actually had a decent nights sleep for once. Wasn't up thinking for all hours…just out.' Rose offers and Jack seems content with that answer because he doesn't bring up that subject again. Rose is immensely grateful, it's not fun to talk about who you've slept with unless it was really, really good. Which is was, it really, really was, but she couldn't tell Jack who she'd been with, for reasons she's already sure she's gone over in her head a million times.

Besides she's gotta stop, she knows she has to…it's just she doesn't want to. And that voice, that voice that is so small and up against a lot of other voices in her mind, the sensible ones, that miniscule voice is the loudest one in her mind. How does she stop that? Can she? Would she?

She assumes she'll just have to wait until she gets a chance to speak with Charlie when she jumps back as soon as she's well enough to do so. She continues to practice what needs to be said to him when they reconnect. She tells herself she needs to be firm and to do it quick. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. Sooner it's done, the less they will have to argue about it or for Charlie to have go at trying to change her mind.

She'd give herself a week and then cram in all the jumps she needs to do in one go. Seeing Charlie again would be the last stop. Or maybe the first. She'll cross that bridge when she gets to it and already begins to weigh the pros and cons of both options. She doesn't come out any further ahead.


	9. Chapter 9: 1930

So she had decided to see him last. Not intentionally of course, it had been more of she got stuck on Jupiter talking to one of the women from the spa and she's a pro at conversation. Rose had tried several times to break away, blaming working, her go to excuse, but then she'd say something at Xiatha, which would launch them into a whole topic of conversation. It's like once you begin a conversation with Xiatha, you'd better clear your schedule because you weren't leaving until a minimum of a half hour had been reached. And that is if you were lucky.

Which she had been, only a forty-five minute conversation. She'd gotten off light. She's sure she sounded desperate to leave in her tone of voice and perhaps impatient stance but she really needed to see Charlie to get that over with. It…it didn't go well.

First, she had called the Chelsea to see if he had dropped by at all while she had been recovering. Elijah said yes and she had cringed. She hoped she hadn't given the impression that she had been ignoring him, because she hadn't been, it had really been work that had kept her away, and of course the slices to her back and stomach…

However Elijah shocked her by telling that Charlie had left him a number to pass along to her should she come back. She had hastily scribbled it down, on the only writeable surface she had, her hand. When she had hung up with Elijah, she had debated for some time if she should attempt to call him right away. She remembered thinking that it would be too early there, 11.30, and he might not even be awake yet by his own admission. No answering machines. She had found herself dialling the number regardless, just ready to deal with whatever would come with it.

More surprisingly, he had actually answered it, shocked as well that he had been talking to her. She had suddenly felt shy around him, informing him that it hadn't been her choice to be away for so long, it had been work. He had said it was fine but she could hear the hint of scepticism in his voice. Well, what was she supposed to tell him? Hey, you know that massive disturbance in Hell's Kitchen about a week back, well that had been me, and I got a little roughed up in the process, so I was taking some time off. Sure. That had sounded totally believable in her mind. But she also didn't miss the relief in his voice and the masked excitement that she had phoned him once more. And that she had wanted to meet up with him again.

So he had offered for her to come to his address. On Park Avenue. At the Waldorf Astoria. She had hung up with him and panicked. That, to this day, is one of the most posh hotels in New York City. Then again what had she expected? They like flaunting their wealth.

Of course it had to have been a suite, she had guessed that much. And when he had opened the door to greet her, she remembered debating on whether or not she should have worn something a bit more…stylish than her jeans, chucks and tee. She simply stood there looking stupidly up at him with a shy smile and she held up her hand in a wave. Hopefully the heat she feels in her cheeks isn't that noticeable to him.

Charlie had ushered her inside, of course it'd be posh in there too. He certainly enjoys showing off. Then again she had the impression, as she had stood in the lounge while he gotten her a drink, that he wasn't always around, didn't often stay here. It was probably in the bed of another woman. She had remembered standing there, watching him carefully as he had gently set the glass down into her outstretched hand, thinking about whether or not she had made her message clear enough that she hadn't seen him standing in front of her until he had placed his hand on her cheek.

She hadn't been able to tell him then. She hadn't even gotten a chance to take a drink from her glass before he had set his own down on the small table next to the settee. She had barely gotten her own next to his before he has his arm wrapped around her waist and she around his neck. She had kissed him first. Because she wanted to and because she had missed him.

Rose blinks, opening her eyes, bringing her lips to his once more. She loves the way he holds her. She's never been held in that way before. Charlie holds her like he's cold, very cold and that she is on fire. She loves that. She bends forward to kiss him and his hands snake up her lower back, keeping pressing her down to him.

'I have to tell you something…' Rose breathes when she pulls her mouth from Charlie's. She attempts to straighten up but he won't let her. Rose tries to keep her demeanour calm but inside she's nervous since they're inches from one another. She's certain Charlie can see every emotion that passes in her eyes.

'What is it?' Charlie wonders when he breaks apart from her. He's left her rather breathless. When she bites her lip, he kisses her once more, and it's only then that he allows her to slide off of him and onto her side.

Rose tucks herself to his side however she stares at the wall, struggling to make her words come out appropriately. How she can make them sound good because in her head they're sounding very awful. She presses her lips together. 'My…time in New York…is over.'

Charlie frowns, watching her as she continues to stare at the wall with anger in her eyes. 'I don't understand…'

Rose turns to him with a sad look in her eyes. How can she say what she needs to say without saying the truth? 'My assignment here…is over. My job is finished. On to the next one.'

Oops. She hadn't meant for the last sentence to come out so…coldly. So, unfeeling. Because that's not how she feels, no. God, no. She loved whatever it was they had between them. It was great. But she has to be realistic.

Charlie is looking at her with a strange look. She probably should have worded her sentence better. Assignment. Job. Heading off to the next one. Yeah, that wouldn't be suspicious at all.

'So, you're going back to England?' Charlie wonders and Rose presses her lips together and nods at him. 'Do you have to?'

Rose leans into him to kiss him ardently, wanting to say no, wanting to just stay here with him. Charlie nearly pulls her on top of him once more but she stops him by placing her hand on his chest. 'Yes, I'm afraid so…'

Charlie is quiet, running his hand over her hip for what will effectively be the last time and he exhales. 'Then this is it…'

Rose gives him a sad smile and places a kiss on him before sliding from the bed and gathering her clothing that had been strewn around the room. She picks up her shirt off the lampshade. She slides on her jeans and then her shirt, pausing to sit on the edge of the bed beside him.

'It is…I wish it didn't have to be.' Rose replies and Charlie gives her a small smirk, brushing her still dishevelled hair off of her face.

'Then stay.' Charlie answers and Rose gives him a smile as she crinkles her nose at him. If only it were that easy. It's difficult to walk away from this, it's been short, sure but she's loved every moment they had together. And now she has to change directions once again. But still…she'll learn to love the skies she's under. She always does.

'It isn't that easy, you know that.' Rose reminds him and keeps her body as close to his as she can before she knows she'll have to practically drag herself off of him and to the door. He seems to relent because he doesn't press the matter further. He understands her mind is made up. And no amount of convincing will change her mind.

'It's a shame we couldn't have gotten to know one another better.' Charlie remarks and Rose gives him a crooked smirk.

'Given the timeframe we had, I think we got to know one another very, very well.' Rose counters and Charlie matches her smirk.

'Good point.' Charlie answers and Rose looks to her feet, sad that this didn't develop into something more. Well, it did. Very quickly, actually, had she forgotten? What else is left for her? To make it exclusive? Isn't that already implied? Well, no, he hadn't formally asked her that question yet. Maybe he didn't plan on it. Maybe he did and she's just ruined his plans.

'I…really enjoyed this.' Rose informs him, her tone is soft and Charlie tilts her chin up to place a kiss on her. Yeah, so did he. It's a shame she'll be leaving.

'So have I,' Charlie replies and watches her get up from the bed. She smiles at him while she backs herself to the bedroom door. 'Maybe if you're ever in the city again, we can get together.'

That…that actually makes her feel a bit better. Hell, she's been all over the place lately, who's to say that she wouldn't end up here again in New York a year or two down the line. Rose nods her head at him and Charlie doesn't miss the fact that her eyes lit up when he had made that suggestion.

'Yeah, yeah I'd love to.' Rose replies and Charlie doesn't miss the emphasis on the word love. He'd _love_ it if she'd stay, but that isn't who she is. She's a wanderer. 'I guess I'll see you around sometime.' Rose offers and Charlie smirks at her.

'Only if you're lucky.'

'Take care of yourself.' Rose feels around behind her for the door handle. And when she has it in her hand she grips it tightly, inhaling deeply and slowly turning it in her hand. The glass knob feels cool in her warm hand.

'I will. You do the same.' Charlie informs her. He had noticed the faint bruising that littered her body and the fading lines of scratches and the pink patches of skin along the left side of her ribs. He had jested with her when they first met in the Chelsea's bar that whatever she did must be dangerous. He didn't know how true it had been until now. He hadn't missed the little winces she had done when he accidently brushed a tender part of her. It worried him. But, she's secretive and hadn't revealed anything substantial. She likes her privacy. Could he, of all people, blame her?

'I will…' She trails off and in a swift motion she has opened the door and stepped through it, shutting it with a soft click. Charlie waits and listens for the door in the entranceway to shut. Only when it shuts with another soft click does he sit back against the headboard and think.

Is it wrong that he's a little perturbed with her for giving him a small taste of her and then abruptly leaving? She was a taste of something different, something he's never had before and now he's simply let her walk out of his life with the flimsy promise of maybe they'll meet again someday. He sighs and thinks about her further. She's…wonderfully chaotic. Thrown together to create a striking mess. In a good way, of course. He is sure that if he had a longer chance to get her know that it'd be a splendid adventure. But, it seems as though it wasn't meant to be.

He's met a lot of confident women before, usually that means trouble because they're too headstrong to listen and not ask questions that don't involve them. That means they clash, personality wise. He's learned that headstrong women will do anything to test him. He's also learned that the hard way as well. But with Rose…she can be stubborn but it's a different stubborn. Maybe because the few times she's demonstrated that trait she'd given in to his demands. Her confidence is refreshing, she's comfortable with who she is and her personality reveals that she relies on no one but herself. That being with him is just a stroke of good luck, company he seems to sense she wants but reluctant to accept. Again, perhaps he can understand her reservations. Could he blame her for not wanting to becoming involved with the likes of someone like him? He'd give her the world if she asked but he has a funny feeling she's already got it, courtesy of her self-determination. It's a dangerous world to become mixed up in what with this fucking war going on between his boss and Maranzano no one is safe.

So, what to do now? She's left him with a craving he isn't sure the women he knows could satisfy. It's strange, it's almost like she doesn't belong in this decade. Is that peculiar? If she doesn't then where does she belong? He remembers her saying one time when he had inquired if she'd been a field nurse thanks to the skill and precision she had used back in 1929, her comment that the War had been before her time made him curious. It didn't make sense because it wasn't possible. She had to be joking. Right? That's the thing with her, she says things that are so strange and yet with such a serious demeanour that he often wonders if she's merely kidding.

He doesn't know how long he's been sitting there. He was vaguely aware of the clock on his desk in the other room chiming at quarter after, half past and then again at the quarter to the hour mark. Problem is he doesn't even know the hour that is approaching. He doesn't recall checking the time when Rose had come by nor even when she phoned him. It had just been before lunch if he isn't mistaken. He leans over and grabs a hold of the clock on the night side table, turning it towards him so he can clearly see rapidly approaching clock hands as they climb to three. Great. All that time spent with Rose, of which he is not complaining because holy fucking hell, she's amazing, but all that fun with her and now he's going to be late meeting up with his boss. It doesn't worry him; he knows what to say to keep his boss off his back.

Charlie gets up and dresses with a bit of haste. As he dons his shirt, he notices it smells faintly of her. Well, at least she left him with a little something. He heads back into the bedroom looking for a tie when he frowns, turning over his shoulder so he can get the room's door in his line of vision. Thought he heard someone knock. But he doesn't hear it again so he resumes the menial task of tying the tie and heading back out into the lounge area to search for his overcoat.

He's certain he hears the knocking sound this time so he heads towards the door instead, picking up the cigarettes and matchbook on his way there. He puts them into his pocket and turns the doorknob, turning over his shoulder as the phone rings. Ignoring it for the moment he shifts his gaze back to the door. Stunned. He doesn't hear the phone continue to ring nor when it stops.

Even as she wraps her arms around him, it still doesn't sink in. She presses her lips to his. When she does pull away she smiles at him while he runs his finger across her jaw line and down her neck. 'You know…I've been thinking. You're where I want to be right now.'

'I'm rather glad to hear you say that.' Charlie replies and Rose closes her eyes as he holds her like she's the only thing keeping him warm.

'But…' Rose trails off as his mouth is covers her before she can finish her thought.

'But…?' Charlie questions after he's pulled her inside and shut the door again.

'I need you to be okay with me coming and going as I please.'

He should have known. Will he be okay with her doing whatever it is she does and it won't bother him that he doesn't know? He might have to cross that bridge when it eventually comes up. Until it does, he'll just be content with her being here when he is.

'Fine. That's just fine.'

'Are you sure?'

Charlie mere gives her a sideways glance and she smiles at him. Rose in turn wraps her arms around his neck. Charlie forgets the meeting for late afternoon as he pins Rose against the door. She takes that as a yes. For the moment there isn't any doubt in her mind.

He's got a dark side to him, so does she, smaller than his, but it's there. Perhaps that's why their personalities mesh so well, marry together perfectly. She's never had this connection with anyone before. She's relishing in it, without caring about the repercussions. She has this desire to see what comes of this. It's a curious, wanting thing she's never experienced before. Is this what lust is? Because she certainly lusts after him, she's never lusted after someone until now. She knew that they aren't going to be conventional, would they last forever? Who's to say, forever is so permanent.

She wonders if it's the lust that keeps her coming back, and why she is unable to stop herself from wanting it, to quell the need she has. Does lust turn into love? Can she have both? Or are the lines between lust and love so thin that they could fade into obscurity at any time by merely a whisper. He's very quickly becoming her vice; she had wanted to stop and to expel him from her mind and refrain from seeking him out. But in the end the vice wore her down until she had come around, ruined by the vice masked as lust so she could search him out and take what she wanted of him.

Life is meant to be lived and taste the experience it gives to the utmost. She can't be afraid, wherever this relationship is going to lead her, she'll have an experience and stories to treasure for the rest of her life. She wants to take risks, she has to. And she will because she's determined to.

* * *

><p>That decision had been made nearly a month ago. Since then, Charlie hasn't been around much. Rose stretches out on the bed and hits her mobile to check the time. He's late. She's beginning to wonder if he's even going to have time to see her tonight at all.<p>

When she had originally left the Waldorf Towers nearly a month earlier, after firmly deciding that it had to end between them, she had wandered around the city in a big circle, debating why her choice made her feel so lousy. She remembered pulling her coat to her body as she had waded through the crowds, trying to make sense of her emotions. It had been fun, she acknowledged that, she loved what happened between them but she had to be realistic, at least that's what she kept reminding herself, he couldn't be the reason she would stay behind in New York. Besides, yet again she had needed to remind herself, that Charlie isn't 'good' man. He had, and she still doesn't know as he won't tell her things like that, just how many lives he's taken either on orders or because he wanted to.

Rose turns onto her side, drawing her knees up. She finds herself still thinking about that night after she'd left for what she thought was forever. Because her voice in her head had made such a good point. He's killed people. And that should terrify her. But it doesn't. And she doesn't get _why!_ How does that not bother one? A sane, normal person would be terrified and here she is sleeping with the enemy, so to speak.

All she knew was that she had wandered herself a path right back to the Waldorf Towers. She knew it had been a stupid thought to attempt to stop what she had so badly and apparently obviously wanted. She had wanted him. She had craved that connection to someone that she'd been missing for so long. And that difference had been, it is, dangerously wonderful.

But that's why she has to keep it a secret from Jack. She knows he'll sense the difference in her, hell he'd already made that comment after she'd gotten back from dinner with Charlie the first time. She's always been bad at wearing her emotions on her sleeve but this time she'll have to be extremely careful. Because if Jack gets even the smallest whiff that something is different with her, he'll demand explanations, and he's so good at wearing her down that she always gives in. That'll bring down the hell fire on her.

Rose turns back to her side and notices that her laptop is still sitting on the vanity chair. She sits up. That has to go away, or she'll have to invent another excuse like the last time. The first time Charlie had dropped by her room unexpectedly, she had just gotten an assignment the day prior from Mikhail and had been going through the long chain of emails and sorting through the paperwork he'd given her to make sense of.

She had just jumped back, had her takeaway lunch with her, her iced coffee and had pitched up her workspace in the middle of the lounge, very exposed to the front door. Then, for reasons she still isn't sure of, she had put her headphones in and started playing music while she ate and worked. She doesn't know why she needed headphones it is a hell of a lot quieter and she's actually able to get work done, but she decided she needed music.

So she had started to work, thankfully the majority of her work had been in Russian, Mikhail had insisted that she work through the difficulty she'd been having writing by only communicating with her in Russian, forget English. Perhaps that's why the headphones had gone on, helped her concentrate. It didn't matter, she had been sitting, eating, drinking, working, singing on occasion, that she hadn't heard the door open, or Charlie calling her name several times. Course her back had been turned, but when she needed to get something in her bedroom, thankfully she'd decided, by some miracle, to take her laptop and mobile with her, shoving the latter into her sweater pocket.

When she had emerged she had jumped nearly a foot back into the bed and had hastily shoved off her headphones, tossing them back into her bedroom. Yeah, it'd taken some time before her heart rate returned to normal.

She gets up and off the bed, going to the vanity and picking up her laptop, shoving it into the bag by her bed. He had been curious as to what she'd been working on, watching her grab the loose papers and shoving them into a folder. She had admitted she didn't know. Yet. And honestly, she still isn't clear, she and Mikhail have been meeting up so frequently that she almost wonders if it's better to stay in the flat she's rented there. She fell in love with it the moment she stepped through the doors. The herringbone floor made it for her. There are touches of the old ways Moscow once held dear and the touches of modernity. Thankfully it was the old style that shone through. Rose also really enjoyed her across the hall neighbour, Ekaterina. A hard-nosed woman with a sharp wit and scathing tongue. At first Rose didn't think they would get along, what with her telling the landlord that she didn't want someone from that island living across from her. Rose had tried to tell her, in Russian as well, that she'd hardly be around; she just needed a place to put her head when she would be in town.

Ekaterina had changed her tune the moment she heard her shaky Russian, still not entire confident in it. She must have been impressed by the effort Rose had given because she had ushered her inside to talk more. And to help her pronounce the harder words she had stumbled over. Surprisingly Ekaterina could speak conversable English. She hadn't seemed as scary after that meeting.

Aimlessly, Rose wanders the room. Picking up loose papers she's left out, a couple of surveillance photographs of Sontarans and one of the Onta Pollock. That wouldn't raise questions at all. Actually it did. It did raise questions, like how the hell did the papers not cover it extensively the next day? It was almost as if it never happened. Which is strange, how does no one remember that? It happened, her body is still recovering from it, so she knows it did. It wasn't brought up by Charlie wondering if she'd heard about the commotion over in Hell's Kitchen, nothing. Well, still. Kate hadn't wanted her to make a scene out of things and even though she had no one talked about it. Maybe they thought it was for a new picture about to be released at the cinemas. That could be believable. Maybe.

She's getting restless. She's gotta do something. Charlie isn't coming by; she's getting the hint. She needs to do something, she stretches and winces. Okay, maybe nothing too strenuous. She forgets that she isn't herself yet, that'll take a bit longer. She hates being side lined by injuries. She wants to be out there.

Strangely her mobile rings. Odd, who had been listening to her lamentations? Rose heads over to the bedroom and picks it up, studying the number. Paris? Who does she know in Paris that has this number?

'Bonjour, Marion parlant.' She pulls away the mobile as static erupts in her ear.

'Salute, Marion! C'est Rick!'

'Rick? Where are you?'

'Just outside Versailles. Had a little problem. Long story but care to assist in a search and rescue?' Rick's voice cuts in and out. Crackle is heard before his voice comes back fully. Rose frowns and turns around on the spot, trying to decide.

'I'm still recovering from a previous mission, I-...'

'Ah, I heard. Well done on that. But don't worry, nothing strenuous, I promise. Scouts honour.' Rick swears and Rose watches the door, waiting to see if Charlie would walk in. He doesn't. Now she has to decide.

'Yeah, all right. I'll be there. Where, exactly?' Rose wonders and begins searching for appropriate clothing. She winces as she bends down.

'Southwest façade. There'll be five of us total. Be great working with you again!' Rick states and Rose ends the call. She sighs and slips on her pants, then her shirt and exhales softly when she sits on the bed to lean forward to tie the laces up on her boots.

When she does straighten up, Rose goes over to the lounge and picks up the notepad she'd left out earlier, tearing off the page of notes and thoughts and writing down her message. She turns in a small circle and wonders where she ought to leave it. She decides on the bed and opens the drawer next to the bed and pulls out the manipulator, grabbing her jacket off the chair before she leaves.

Well, here she goes again.

* * *

><p>She silently opens the door to the hotel room, quietly slipping in and depositing the heavy key back into her jacket pocket. She pauses in front of the bathroom and wonders if a shower will help relieve her very achy muscles. That rescue, that assist in the mission had been draining and unexpectedly tough, terrain wise. She feels heavy and just wants to rest so perhaps in the morning she will do that. It's late here, after two in the morning. She hadn't meant to show up this late but the mission hit a bit of a snag when their ride back had not yet arrived. They were stuck until then. She hadn't been impressed, but there wasn't much she could do to change the circumstances, she committed to staying with them until the end, which meant no jumping back to New York. It taught her that she needed to remain patient.<p>

When she steps into the second, back part of her hotel suite she's taken back by who she sees sleeping in her bed. She's really surprised. He told her, before she got her call to join a team of people sent to rescue someone, that he'd be late and not to wait up. He left and she got her call. She wasn't going to take it. As she was and still is recovering from her fight with the stray Onta, but what could happen with a rescue mission? Surprisingly very little. So she went, even if she should have stayed put to rest her injuries, left him a note and put it out of her mind, focusing on her task. Usually when she tells him she'll be late he won't stop by to wait, she'll see him the next morning or some time in the day, usually calling her to have her join him somewhere to catch up. That's why she's so surprised to see him asleep there. But the again, she hasn't seen him in nearly a month, or maybe it had been more. Or less. It had become a hit and miss with them. He'd have something else to do, of course she can guess what it was, and she had been lying in her London flat trying to recover as quickly as she can. Phone conversations with Charlie simply don't cut it.

He must have either gotten in late and simply hadn't cared she wasn't there, figuring that she'd return at some point or had waited for some time before giving up that he'd see her before the start of the new day, besides, Park Avenue isn't very far from West 23rd street maybe that's why he wanted to stay. Either way it ended with him asleep on his side facing the wall with the curtains still open. When morning comes he isn't going to be pleased he left those ajar so she quietly walks towards them, thankful that this posh hotel has thick carpets, softening her footfalls and she draws the curtains closed as silently as she can before turning to him.

It's a pleasant surprise nonetheless and she is appreciative that he's there; she hurts, is sore and could really use the comfort of his embrace on her. She silently curses as she pulls of her shirt over her head, the movement adding strain to her still bruised ribs, she doesn't know why she slipped this shirt on verses her cat suit. She drops it on the chair by the end of the bed and unbuckles her belt, slipping her cargo pants down her hips and dropping them to the floor by mistake. That's where they're going to stay for the night because it's too much strain to bend down and pick them up.

When she sits on the bed, all the energy she had drains from her and she closes her eyes, covering her mouth to sigh. She slowly shimmies her way backwards into his embrace, tucking herself tightly to his side and reaches behind her to take a hold of his arm, draping it over herself and holding his hand tightly. She hasn't bothered to pull her sheets up around herself, letting the cool breeze instead help her drift off. She's nearly asleep when she feels Charlie stir behind her and grip her tighter to him when he realises that she's in bed with him. Stillness engulfs them again.

'You made it…' He murmurs quietly, sleep clinging to his voice and Rose feels herself smile a bit.

'I'm sorry…work ran late.' She offers. Which had been true. Their transportation never arrived when it was supposed to. She feels bad when she can't make it back to him when she says she will. He seems to understand; after all he's guilty of the same thing. But still…seeing him is the only thing that makes her happy and not being able to come back when she says so, usually it's beyond her means, makes her feel anxious to get back.

'Did it? That must have been frustrating.' He comments and Rose nods her head against him. Frustrating didn't even begin to cover it, especially while the medical team had fretted over her. Noticing the way she carried herself because of her ribs, short breaths, they had subjected her to a quick exam and no one spoke up in her defence. Concern or not it angered her.

'Technical snafu but yes, in the end it did.'

'Are you ever going to tell me what you do, Rose?' Charlie questions and kisses the back of her head. Rose exhales her small laugh.

'Maybe one day, Charlie, but not right now.' Rose answers and he gently squeezes her hip in response. She hasn't the heart to tell him that his grip is tight and there is a bruise there from where she landed hard by a swing of the Onta, it had only just started to bruise.

'Then I'll look forward to that day…' He replies, sighing into her neck and Rose twists slightly, ignoring the pain in her ribs to reach her arm around his neck and draw him closer for a kiss.

'I don't know what made you want to wait for me here, but I'm so glad you did, Charlie, I really am.' Rose informs him as she pulls away, he holds her inches from his face and kisses her once more.

'Because I'm rather keen on you, Miss Tyler, I can't seem to get you out of my head when you're not around.'

'It's too late in the night for flattery, Charlie.' Rose teases and Charlie strokes her cheek.

'It's the truth.'

'Yeah? Well, I like being the only thing you think about.' Rose teases and Charlie matches her smirk.

'Among other things.' He counters and Rose holds her smile as she places her hand on his cheek, kissing him lightly. Suddenly all the sleep she couldn't wait to get is gone. Now she's wide-awake. Maybe tomorrow…she'll not work. No phone calls, just light research.

'Well, what about you, then?' She wonders, shifting to sit up properly and give some relief to the hip that's tender. She draws the covers around herself suddenly feeling rather cold. She turns to Charlie who is regarding her with a bit of a frown.

'What do you mean?'

'I just mean that you haven't told me what it is you do, either.' Rose replies innocently. As if it weren't already evident enough. Charlie must read her mind because he smiles at her while shaking his head.

'Isn't it obvious?'

Rose merely flashes him a crooked grin in response. Course it is. The whole bloody world knows what he does. Directly or indirectly. 'I suppose it is. But how'd you even get into something like this. I don't think a little boy dreams about being a criminal.'

'No, you're right, I didn't.' Charlie confirms and Rose arches her eyebrow at him before smiling through her lashes. She is rather good at that. He isn't pleased that the world criminal came up, even though he is, he always thought it added a very bad, negative connotation to him. What does he expect? Course it's negative because criminals do bad things, of which he's done many bad things. There's gotta be a better way of phrasing that, though. Criminals get caught, don't they? He hasn't been caught. Unlikely he will.

'So? Tell me, I'm curious,' Rose wonders and draws her knees up. She turns over to Charlie who seems to be debating whether or not to tell her anything at all. He isn't obligated to; she's just a broad he's sleeping with. Ugh, hopefully he uses a better term than that. Rose can see the thoughts pass through his eyes and she attempts a kiss with a smile. 'It's okay, I was just wondering is all.'

'I'll tell you, but I want you to tell me something.'

Rose tilts her head; she can tell him everything without uttering anything substantial. 'Sure, you're on.'

'Good.' Charlie replies. Hopefully now he can get some answers for himself but mainly for those close to him who had wanted to know about the mysterious blonde British girl who seems to have stolen his heart and yet not interfered with what he did, unlike the others. Rose is waiting patiently. He wonders if he could delay telling her. No one he's ever dated has asked him about his past. Only he and those closest to him know. So why does he want to inform her? Well he did just promise to and Rose as well promised to reveal something about her, too. Just so he can relay something to the boys.

Rose can see he isn't sure where to start, not like she'd know, either. She could suggest the beginning but maybe he doesn't want to. So she turns into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and begins to kiss him. Slow at first, but as he wraps his arm around her lower back, Rose moves atop of him. She grows hot instantly and breaks away for a quick inhale before she fervently kisses him again. Well, maybe this will break the ice.

* * *

><p>'And? Is that a sufficient enough break?' Rose questions, inhaling deeply.<p>

'I suppose so…' Charlie trails off, tilting Rose's chin up towards him. She smiles as he kisses her. She presses herself to him firmly once more.

Eventually she pulls away and slides off of him, and then off the bed, walking from the room to the lounge as she calls it, rummaging for something before coming back into the bedroom. She's empty handed he notices however she slides in next to him once more.

'Sorry, just had to check something. I thought I left something behind the last time I had been out.' Rose explains and stretches, running her hand through her hair.

'Right, that job you do.' Charlie replies and eyes her.

'Ah, ah, we aren't starting with me.' Rose counters and presses her lips together as she smiles coyly at him.

'We aren't?' Charlie wonders and draws Rose closer to him. She gets comfortable, tucking herself tightly to his side as he puts his arm around her shoulders.

'That wasn't the deal we struck about an hour ago.' Rose replies with an arched eyebrow and draws her knee up. Charlie puts his hand on her knee and squeezes it gently.

'Maybe I've changed it.'

'Or you don't want to talk about it. Which is fine.' Rose leans into him for another kiss. She's smirking at him as she moves towards the end of the bed when Charlie leans forward to grab her arm. Rose turns around.

'Going somewhere?' Charlie inquires and Rose coyly shrugs.

'I don't know, maybe.'

'No, come here.'

Rose smirks at him and heads back, knowing she has captured his interest once again. Charlie tilts her chin up to him to kiss her. 'Mm…' Rose trails off when he pulls away from her.

He knows he's hesitating. Buying time. She said not to worry. And said it without any tone in her voice. 'Where do you want me to start?'

'The beginning?' Rose offers but then frowns. 'Wherever that may be.'

'Sicily. Lercara Friddi,' Charlie answers and Rose smiles a bit. Crookedly. Charlie notices she's playing with the end of her hair, she knows what's coming. She's anticipating it. 'And you?'

'London. Born and raised. That close to Palermo?' She answers and deflects, she's good.

'Yes. My family came to America in 1907, I was ten.' Charlie informs her and arches her eyebrow. He nods and she leaves his side, walking from the bedroom to the lounge. Again he hears things clinking into a glass.

'Why did you leave?' Rose calls to him from the lounge. He smiles, he doesn't remember really. He just remembered his parents arguing about it, the walls were so thin in their home, not that their apartment in Lower Manhattan had been any better. That's the problem; their fortunes didn't change when they came to America. They struggled. He just remembered he didn't want to do that forever.

'Why did anyone leave? Chase the so called American Dream.' Charlie answers and a laugh is heard from the lounge.

'You're living it now, though, Charlie, aren't you?' Rose wonders and she enters the bedroom again. She can see him eyeing her, taking her in as she holds out a drink for him and passes him something else that surprises him.

'Yes, I suppose so,' Charlie ignites a cigarette. He can't resist commenting. 'I thought you didn't like it when I smoked in here.'

'I'm making an exception. Don't get used to it.' Rose replies firmly, so he ensures to blow the smoke away from her. There is still a hint of playfulness in her voice.

'Very well.'

'So, when you came here, was it everything you thought it'd be?' Rose wonders and gets comfortable, taking a sip from the drink she crafted. That's one thing she learned when Charlie visited her. Drinks. So she started stocking alcohol.

Charlie laughs at her question. 'Of course not. It never is. Things were the same it's just a different spot.'

'I guess that's true.'

'There was more arguing, I remember that much.' Charlie answers and Rose frowns. She takes another sip, thinking about how that could possibly be. She swishes the liquid in her glass. Charlie is merely staring at his.

'But why? Over what?'

'I don't know, I really don't remember. Everyone just seemed on edge, my parents argued, my brothers and I argued and my sisters and I argued. I think that's why I stayed out on the streets so often.' Charlie admits and doesn't want to admit that he's often wondered why things appeared worse after they came to Manhattan.

Rose blinks at his admission. 'You have brothers and sisters?'

Charlie stares at her quizzically. 'Yes. One older brother and one younger one, and two younger sisters. You seem surprised.'

Rose absently shrugs her shoulders at him while Charlie leans over to the ashtray that Rose had brought along with her. 'You just never mentioned family before. I thought that you maybe…didn't have anyone left.'

'No. Everyone's well, as far as I know.' Charlie replies and Rose can hear the dismissal in his voice. It causes her to frown.

'But you _don't_ know?'

'We're not close, Rose. I haven't seen them in many, many years,' Charlie answers and Rose takes a long drink from her glass, wondering how he could just…forget he has family. 'It's just safer this way, wouldn't you agree?'

'Yeah, I guess so. Did you have a falling out?' Rose swishes the liquid around in her glass and doesn't know Charlie regarding her with a stoic exterior. This is the most he's ever revealed to anyone before. It doesn't make him uncomfortable just…well; it gives him a strange feeling that he isn't able to identify.

'One thing at a time,' Charlie reminds her and Rose nods her head in acceptance. 'And you? What family do you have?'

Complicated question. How far back does she want to go? Might as well be honest. It isn't as if she's gonna take him to meet them. Even if she could she couldn't imagine the look on her mother's face if she brought Charlie home with her. Actually, maybe she can.

'It was just me and mum for the longest time but she remarried and I have a younger brother now.' Rose looks at the glass. Still hurts to talk about her mum. She misses her so much. She hopes with everything that everyone is all right.

'You said that…with a touch of regret in your voice.' Charlie observes and Rose turns over to him with a shy smile.

'Like you, I haven't seen my family in a while.'

'That's the difference, I don't mind not seeing them. I prefer _not_ to see them. You do. Can't you visit? You travel enough. Shouldn't it be easy? Daunting but easy.' Charlie wonders and Rose shakes her head. If she could she'd be there every single day. But she made a choice and she's gotta be okay with those consequences.

'Not as easy as it seems.' Rose's reply is cryptic and Charlie exhales the smoke into the air above them. It lingers and while Rose would normally crinkle her nose at it, she finds it oddly comforting.

'You're not speaking?' Charlie assumes and Rose once more shakes her head.

'No, not that. I just…haven't tried.'

'Maybe you should.'

_If only it were that easy_, Rose thinks but gives Charlie a smile anyway. He couldn't know that it's impossible. She can't break down the walls between universes although there have been times when the only person in the world she wanted was her mother. 'Yeah. Maybe I should,' Rose gives him a quick kiss, eager to change the subject. 'Now, you still have a question to answer.'

'And here I was hoping you'd forget,' Charlie replies but Rose shakes her head. 'I guess I…fell into step with the wrong kind of people. Or maybe it was just the money.'

'Oh, this is going to be good. I can't wait.' Rose teases and Charlie gives her a sideways look. She's merely looking at him with anticipation to go on. How does she manage to do that? No other woman has made him want to talk about the past.

Maybe it was because no one had ever asked. He knew what the women he dated prior to Rose were interested in, what he was interested in from them. It worked for both sides but Rose is more…substantial than the others. He didn't realise he liked it until she displayed it.

'I've always felt more comfortable on the streets, I learned that young. You could get more of an education from the people there than you ever could sitting in a classroom. That's why I stopped going. Course, to my parents, that was a behaviour to stop. They thought an education would give me options I couldn't get in Sicily. Figured education would keep me out of the mines.'

'Mines?' Rose echoes and frowns. Charlie takes a long drink. It's weird feeling these feelings that have surfaced in twenty years. The arguments they had over it. How his father screamed at him, his mother lamented to not squander this opportunity. History now.

'Yes, sulphur mines. It's what my father did before we left. He was a miner by trade, what my brothers and I were expected to get into had we not left.' Charlie replies and Rose stares at her knees that she's just drawn up.

'Sounds gruelling.' Rose answers softly and Charlie nods his head.

'Not something I wanted to get in to, determined not to get in to.' Charlie flicks the ash into the tray. Waste of a cigarette, thankfully she's brought him more than one.

'But why not stay with school?' Rose wonders and then feels strange for asking. He's already said it but it didn't really…sit well with her. She isn't sure why.

Charlie shrugs. 'I gave it four years. Left at fourteen figuring they couldn't teach me anything I didn't already know. Got a job instead.'

Rose feels herself smiling. 'Yeah? Fourteen? I was sixteen.'

Charlie stares at her before grinning. 'You're telling me you never finished school either? I know what my excuse was. What's yours?'

Rose turns her gaze down to her knees again and bites her lip. When she does lift her eyes to meet his, Charlie can see the hint of embarrassment in her face and the slight red tinge to her cheeks. 'My stupid naivety and impressionable attitude. At the time.' She adds firmly. She's come a long way from that sixteen-year-old girl.

'Meaning?'

'I was dating someone. Older than me. A musician. Told me one day school was a waste of time. Next day, I stopped going,' Rose feels herself grow resentful at the memories. 'That little tryst didn't last long. Few months later, it was done and I went home with a broken heart, some debt and bitterness. Leaned that lesson, though.'

'I wouldn't have guessed.' Charlie answers and sees her in a new light. Rose can see him studying her and she smiles at him.

'I know, good combination of street smarts and book smarts.' Rose replies with a crooked grin.

'I'll say.'

'So, at fourteen you had a job, was it good?' Rose wonders, attempting to get things back on track, but when Charlie smiles at her she laughs.

'Of course not. Seven bucks a week? Hell no. But it was a start. I got to learn Manhattan better and better. Then Brooklyn since my parents were constantly sending me there. The Truancy School in Brooklyn further solidified that I didn't belong in school. That and of course the winnings I got from a dice game. Easy money.'

'How much easy money?' Rose questions and Charlie takes a quick drink.

'I think it was about $245 bucks.'

'Wow,' Rose can see why he'd see that as easy money. Maybe that's where the nickname came in. 'So, how long after that win did you quit the job and go to earning money on the streets?'

'You're quite perceptive,' Charlie remarks and Rose shrugs innocently at him, she gives him a coy smile. 'The next day.'

'I'm not surprised,' Rose wraps her arm around one knee content with listening to him. She regrets having to answer his questions about her side of things. She feels it disrupts the flow to things. 'What next?'

'I didn't do petty crimes, which is what a lot of other street gangs did. I tried to be different, offer something different. See, the Jewish community wasn't far from mine, and other younger Irish or Italian gangs were always picking on the boys, so, I offered protection to them. Ten cents a week.'

'Seems reasonable. Did you get into a lot of fights?' Rose is curious but Charlie merely flashes her a crooked grin that tells her everything. She playfully rolls her eyes and sighs. 'Of course you did.'

'That's how I met Meyer.'

'Who?'

'Meyer Lansky, we've been friends ever since I attempted to threaten him into giving me his money.'

'What'd he say to that?' Rose wonders and Charlie holds back his smirk.

'Told me to go fuck myself.' Charlie states proudly and Rose feels her mouth drop open. She doesn't know why he seems proud of that. She got the feeling that a comment like that would incense him greatly.

'You seem…pleased he did that.' Rose observes and Charlie shrugs as he ignites another cigarette. She eyes him as she waits for his explanation.

'I didn't know Meyer had already formed his own gang with Ben Siegel. So we sort of combined forces.' Charlie explains and Rose tilts her head. Two infamous people she's yet to meet, and she wonders if she ever will, so far their interactions have only been with one another.

'Interesting…' Rose trails off and she takes a sip from her drink, pondering his words. 'So, what then? Let the good times roll?'

'Sure, if you want to think that. Most of the people I've met were during that time; gang leaders meet other gang leaders. We've been arrested together, all that stuff. I mean, I've been arrested twenty four times since 1916, and, of course,' Charlie pauses to hold up his glass. 'This.'

'Cheers to prohibition,' Rose raises her glass to his. They grin at one another. 'So, why get in to bootlegging, then? The money?'

'Of course. But, also opportunity. There's a demand that needs to be filled. People will pay more money for something authentic that they know is imported from a trusted source. Scotland, Canada. My boss and the old school Mafiosi believe it didn't matter where the alcohol came from because people were stupid and didn't know any better.

'That was the frustrating part, arguing and he wasn't listening. That and his uncouth behaviour became grating. So I left him to work for Arnold Rothstein. If there's anyone I owe a thanks to, it's Arnold. He saw potential in me, I guess, and became a sort of mentor figure. He also realised how big Prohibition could be, educated me in running a business smuggling, before he financed my bootlegging operations.'

Rose blinks, trying to take in the information. It's dry when you read it in a book. It comes alive when being explained to her face. Of course, the books she read left out some details. 'And that's only part of it, isn't it?'

Charlie watches as she leans to the bedside table to set her drink on it. She turns back around, watching him through her lashes. 'I suppose so.' He sets his own drink on the table just in time as she straddles his waist, kissing him deeply.

'Sounds like it's a bit rough out there.' Rose replies when she pulls away from him. Charlie runs his hand from her cheek to her neck while she closes her eyes. He wraps his left arm around her lower back, keeping her close to him.

'What makes you say that?' Charlie wonders and Rose gives him a funny look but no answer, instead she kisses him, slowly while she lets her hands cup his face. But she lets her right hand trail down his neck, resting on the scar she knows is there for a moment before she finishes running her index finger down his chest.

'Oh, you know, things…' Rose answers when she pauses for air. 'Like how we met…'

Charlie grins at her, brushing her hair out of her eyes and then frowns as he recalls that meeting. 'What a fucking terrible way to meet someone. Actually what a fucking terrible night.'

Rose smiles sadly at him. 'I should have stayed, I thought about it after. I should have.'

Charlie shrugs in her embrace. 'It wouldn't have been pleasant for you. I was at the hospital for all of an hour before the cops hauled me back to the station for questioning.'

Rose feels her mouth drop. She shakes her head in disbelief. 'No, they didn't. Oh my god. Seriously? I knew, I hate it when I doubt myself. I'm sorry.'

'Sorry for what? The media was lying in wait there. I didn't want you a part of that. They're fucking vultures.' Charlie replies seriously and Rose frowns, utterly perplexed as to why the media would even be interested in that. Slow news day, or what?

'Why would the media be there?'

'No fucking idea,' Charlie answers, she can hear the resentment in his voice. Rose leans down for another kiss. Still not quite believing that this is happening. That she's letting herself get close, getting comfortable and sharing a bed with him. She must be mad. But she admits she loves it. 'I made a name for myself by keeping my head down, doing what I'm told and not asking questions. It pisses me off immensely to do so but it's the only way to survive in this business. You start drawing attention to yourself; it's only a matter of time before you're caught. And that's why having the media at the police station was bad. The public found out about me. A lot of speculation, but still, that kind of publicity isn't good for business.'

'So, what have you done? The police haven't…stepped up their game have they?' Rose questions, she couldn't imagine having such a terrible night, merely going to the hospital as a formality, most likely to quell the bleeding and get some stitches into him before being yanked to the station for questioning. And then, on top of that, the media is creating obstacles for you. Obstructing your way in and out. She knows she'd be rather annoyed.

'Cops can easily be persuaded to look the other way.' Charlie's reply is cryptic but she has no doubt he's referring to buying them off. It just makes her really see the difference in the worlds they live in. She by no means lives life by the rules but…the feeling is different here.

'Still, what a terrible night.'

'You're right.'

Rose gives him a sympathetic smile; truly she should have stayed with him. At least he'd have company. Who cares about the media, Charlie would've just been in there for questioning, nothing more. She could have handled that, made sure he got back to the Waldorf safely. But no, she'd been busy sulking about her life up to that point.

They lay in silence together, Rose trying to construct an image in her mind about how life would have been for Charlie before and after he came to New York. She still can't imagine having four other siblings and not caring to keep in touch with them, or his parents. Hell, if there were a way to see her mum, Tony and Pete again, she'd do anything. Then again she supposes she can understand the need to keep his distance. It might be safer for them that way.

Rose closes her eyes, letting out a soft sigh when Charlie begins to absently move his hand back and forth on the curve of her hip. He's thinking too, she just doesn't know what about. He isn't easy to read all the time; it's hard to discern what's going through his mind at that moment. She continues to think back on his conversation with her, how complicated things can get so very quickly and how he seems to have avoided every attempt to end his life. But it isn't over; it's just getting started.

'There's a war coming, isn't there?' Rose keeps her voice soft. Charlie pauses in his movements, hand pausing on the curve of her hip before he lifts it to tilt her chin up him.

'It's already here.'

'How dangerous is it?' Rose wonders and Charlie is quiet.

'How dangerous is any war, Rose?' Charlie smiles at her when Rose closes her eyes. 'The public isn't the target; it's gangsters, our allies, our enemies. Everyone is everyone else's enemy. Doesn't matter the side.'

'How?'

'It's a generational struggle. People like my boss, or Maranzano they began their criminal careers in Sicily before they came here. I didn't. Nearly all my associates didn't either. The bosses in charge are old school and exclusionists. We're not. They don't get that.' Charlie has a sigh in his voice, as if this weren't the first time he's gone over this. To her it sounds petty to exclude people but she doesn't know the reason why they'd want to.

'How did it start?'

'How does any war start, someone, or a lot of people die and there's power up for grabs. Trouble was, my boss was already here to grab it. Don Vito Ferro sent Maranzano over here from Sicily control the gangs and if he could take out my boss well, that's the ultimate goal.' Charlie explains and Rose feels the information go over her head before she really thinks to process it.

'Being a gangster sounds exhausting. You're living your life while watching your back.' Rose comments and Charlie laughs, not a point he hadn't noticed before.

'It is, but hopefully it won't last too long. Although…' Charlie pauses and begins to consider how much attention the bodies of the dead are attracting. The public is starting to take notice. And that isn't good.

'Although what…?'

'If my boss hadn't ordered the hit on his alley Gaetano Reina, this wouldn't have started. And now the bodies are attracting attention. I told Vito that hit would be no good but fuck, he couldn't say no. Pissed me off. I liked Gaetano. He was a man of his word; he had culture, and was a very honourable Italian. ' Charlie answers and Rose tilts her head.

'Why would your boss kill an ally, that doesn't make sense?' Rose frowns, trying to see the good it could bring. She can't think of any. Even if it were a move to flush out traitors, they may only pay lip service and then throw their support at Maranzano. She's guessing that's what happened.

'Because he's a fucking idiot. It was supposed to be a hit in order to protect Lucchese and Gagliano but what he didn't see coming, and what I explicitly told him numerous times, was that the Reina family would give all their support to Maranzano. And they did, then he acted like it was a fucking surprise,' Charlie answers; Rose can hear the annoyance in his voice. 'He sees me as nothing more than a thug with a gun. That my advice isn't any good. I'm just the enforcer.'

'You're just there to follow orders.' Rose surmises and she can see Charlie's look darken when he turns to her. She tries a sympathetic smile and small kiss.

'That's exactly it. Which is why I've been thinking…'

'What?'

'Nothing, never mind.' Charlie answers quickly and Rose tosses him an unimpressed look.

'You're scheming. I can see it.' Rose replies seriously. Charlie gives her a crooked smile.

'I know. But, there's time yet. In this business, you learn to be patient.' Charlie replies and pulls her down for a kiss. When Rose breaks away she decides to inquire something that's been bothering her.

'Charlie?'

'Yes?'

'How come you answered all my questions?' Rose wonders and there is a heavy silence in the air. She can tell, he doesn't know either. He hasn't been this open with someone before. So, why is she different? Does she come across as trustworthy in his eyes? Even still...if that is true, why?

'Because you asked.' Charlie finally replies and it causes Rose to frown at him. If it is that easy, have other people wondered? Other women he's dated, actually now that she thinks on it harder, she doubts very much that those other women would be interested in his personal life. It'd mostly likely be the other things.

'Is that all it takes?'

'Should there be more?' Charlie wonders with a smirk and Rose crinkles her nose as she smiles at him.

'I just mean…we haven't known one another long.'

'Are you saying you're not trustworthy?' Charlie questions, there isn't an accusatory tone to his voice at all, and his tone conveys more of a fact. There is no anger in his eyes just a stoic façade. Rose flashes him an unimpressed look.

'I'm not saying that all. I just, it just took me off guard that you'd want to tell me things like that.' Rose answers seriously.

He knows she's right. He just willingly told her things, the rap sheet, that he's a hitman for his boss, the rackets, things like that. Things she probably shouldn't know, since she could take that information and go straight to the cops. But she won't. He knows it. Because hell, he even told her about his family. She's making him slip up. Normally he's so guarded, any other broad that wanted to know how he was doing so well given the difficult times the nation is going through, especially New York City, he'd just tell them that it wasn't their business and to drop it. And they would because it was a statement not a request and to those broads, he gave off an intimidating air. He doesn't want to say to her that she makes him rather nervous. The reason? She makes him think things, admit things, tell her things that he hasn't thought about or told anyone for years. How does she do that?

But Rose didn't see that and if she did she didn't comment on it. In fact she's got an intimidating air about her too, but unlike his, apparently, she can turn hers off and be this quiet, shy girl. He saw that when he took her for dinner the first night.

So, why'd he tell her? Well, one because she did ask. And two because he can trust her, he knows he can, he can feel it. Even if he knows nothing about her, other than the fact she has a mum and a brother, she strikes him as someone who isn't easily scared into submission but rather thrives on the unknown. Whatever it is she does do, he's come to the conclusion that she must work for herself in some capacity, although she isn't a Madam or a prostitute, she's made that explicitly clear anytime she mentions work and if she thinks he's giving her a funny look over it or is thinking that she is. But what else could she possibly do? Would she even tell him? Hell, she'd better, he told her. Then again what if she isn't comfortable talking about it. It isn't tit for tat.

'I trust you.' He finally answers her and Rose is rather surprised. Well, he's right to. She is aware of her role in this time, as his…whatever she is to him, she will not become involved with the law because she can't and wouldn't even if she could. That's their job, not hers.

'Yeah? Well, good, you're right to.' Rose declares and kisses him.

'But being questioned, should it ever happen, by the police, wouldn't scare you?' Charlie wonders. Again his voice is even, not full of fear or concern perhaps…curiosity?

'Don't you worry about them and me. I'm not here to do their jobs for them.' Rose answers firmly. That comment makes him like her that much more. He knows the police know about him, but his actual involvement on many rackets here in the city is still unknown to them. He knows they don't have much information about him to place him under arrest for anything. The only thing they know is his rap sheet from when he had been younger and even then it hadn't been anything serious. Nothing no one else was doing too, at the time, or still doing. They've just gotten more sophisticated. And, thanks to Arnold, smarter.

'That's good to know.' Charlie answers and Rose can hear the relief, thinly veiled, in his voice. She gives him a confident smirk as she climbs off of him to take a final drink of the whiskey in the glass. She can tell it's starting to make her drowsy. Hell she could fall asleep right now, in fact that's what she had started to do before she had accidently woken Charlie up, or did he wake himself up. Doesn't matter, it's so late now, early morning hours, she certain. Suddenly she feels every ache in her body and the need to sleep becomes a priority in her mind.

Too bad that it doesn't look like it could be happening any time soon. Charlie has other ideas…she gasps but he silences her as he presses his mouth to hers. Where's that voice of doubt now, she wonders and throws her head back.

She is aware of its presence always there, lurking, constantly questioning if what she's doing is right. And it'll never stop. And right now, at this moment, she doesn't care.


	10. Chapter 10: 1930

It's so different being on Broadway in 1930. It's not as offensive to the eyes as it will eventually become in her time. Sure it's still glitzy and glamorous but it's got that charm to it, it isn't ostentatious, like it is in her time, so it's still a new concept to her. It's up and coming. It's not crowded like it is back home, it's still spacious and she loves it. Charlie watches her still staring with awe and wide eyes, just as she had when he first walked her down this way. He loves how she still can't keep her eyes in one spot; they're darting from place to place. Even though she is no stranger to this city, she pretends like she's just seeing for the first time. He holds her hand tighter. Her concentration is broken and she turns to him, a wide smile on her face. She looks beautiful, her red lips contrast with her smoky eyes and that dress. It's not something that he has normally seen on any of the girls that he's been around before her. Her dress is tight, tighter than he's ever seen on a woman before, but he loves it. It falls to her knees and the sleeves to her elbows. Her hair is swept off her face and pulled tightly into a ballerina bun as she called it and at the bottom of bun is a black bow. He loves her fashion choices; he's always surprised when they go out what she manages to pull off.

Rose grabs a hold of Charlie's arm and they head from the theatre to the restaurant. Her suggesting they see one of the last Ziegfeld performances since the amazing Billy Dove would be appearing had been something he had actually enjoyed seeing. Thankfully as the weather warms the days get longer so they can spend more time outside, which she seems to enjoy immensely. He turns to her. 'Rose, how many times have we gone out now?'

Rose blinks, taken off guard by that question but she finds herself smiling none the less and mentally counts. 'Hm, I think it's eight.'

'Really, I thought nine.' Charlie remarks and Rose turns up to him with a smirk.

'No, it's eight,' She assures him and he frowns. 'Are you including Staten Island?'

'Maybe that's where I'm getting nine.' Charlie admits and Rose begins to laugh at him.

'That's hardly a date, Charlie, that's me saving you.' She reminds him and Charlie is about to answer her when he spots someone approaching them in the rapidly growing evening crowds. He stops and takes her hand tightly in his. She doesn't notice until she keeps walking and she's abruptly pulled back. She turns around and Charlie is shaking his head.

'Come, this way.'

'But the restaurant is just here.' Rose points out but follows him anyway. He seems flustered and annoyed suddenly. She trots to fall into pace with him once again.

'We'll take the long way.' Charlie replies and Rose frowns, she doesn't ask anymore questions as he doesn't seem to want answer them, however she wants to know what she's looking out for. Are they being tailed? Well she can fix that.

'Why?'

Charlie stops as his name is called from across the large gap between them and the man who is quickly approaching them, Charlie sighs in defeat. Rose can see the anger in his face and she rubs the back of his hand with her thumb. He turns around at the last moment just as stranger approaches them. Charlie must not want to stay and converse with this man for long because he shields Rose from the man's stare while she watches from over his shoulder.

It isn't often people leave her feeling uncomfortable enough to stay silent. She doesn't even like making eye contact with this man, and she can feel his gaze on her. Charlie must have felt it too because he takes another step in front of her and holds her hand tightly. She can feel the animosity growing between this man and Charlie. There's a brutality to this man's eyes, a darkness to them. It makes her extremely uncomfortable; it seems to contrast with the expensive silk suit he's wearing, as if he he's attempting to give off an approachable air to others he may come into contact with, but it isn't working.

'Quella ragazza meglio essere italiano.' The man states, and Charlie glances down from Rose back to the man and frowns, wondering why he'd phrase his question as a statement. It's plainly obvious that she isn't.

'She isn't, clearly,' Charlie responds, preferring English, and the man lowers his gaze to where Rose isn't paying attention, instead watching the people as they continue to walk along Broadway, she has her hand in his and his arm wrapped in his as well, he eyes her. 'What do you want?'

'Il pagamento di questo mese è in ritardo, Charlie.' The man folds his arms and Charlie folds his as well, angry that he's being bothered right now about the tribute money. Rose peers around Charlie, hoping to continue to avoid the man's eye. It doesn't happen and the man deeply stares at her. She hastily looks away.

'I sent Frank and Albert to collect the money. They'll have it so go see them.' Charlie replies and that seems to infuriate the man further, as if Charlie's words isn't something he wants to hear. Rose shifts her weight from one foot to the other unsure if she should become involved. She really isn't dressed appropriately to fend off this large brute of a man.

'E ti ho detto che avrei affrontato senza uno dei vostri piccola banda, ma voi.' The man reminds Charlie and he does his best to not give in to the enormous irritation currently felt by his words. There is not a good enough reason for his boss to ignore his trusted friends.

'And why won't you deal with anyone but me?' Charlie wonders and the man continues to stare him down as if he should know the reason and shouldn't have to be constantly reminded of it.

'Non fare il furbo con me. Tu sai il motive,' The man responds and Charlie suppresses the urge to say something smart back to him. He directs his anger somewhere else by gripping Rose's hand tighter. 'Prendi i miei soldi entro domani, Luciana. Non inviare chiunque altro, perché sarebbe un peccato se qualcosa dovesse accadere a tua ragazza. Non credi?'

Charlie stares the man down deeply while he in turn watches Rose who is staring at her feet in apparent boredom. If she only knew. 'You wouldn't.' Charlie replies and the man arches his eyebrow in surprise, as if Charlie has forgotten to whom he's speaking with. He seems to forget that he will use whatever means necessary to collect what's owed to him. Including this girl.

'Try me,' The man answers in a heavily accented English. It's grabs Rose's attention because she peers around Charlie in surprise. However the man seems to think that his intention has been made clear enough and he brushes by them, taking another good look at Rose from behind as he goes, she catches him and arches her eyebrow at him. 'Lei è una bella ragazza, Charlie e non vorrebbe nulla per accadere a lei, vero?' He questions and Charlie glares at him as the man disappears into the crowds.

'Buonanotte, signore! Piacere di conoscerti!' Rose shouts after him and Charlie feels himself smile as they continue to stand there, the crowds bumping into them. Rose turns to Charlie with a confused stare. 'Who the hell was that?'

Charlie puts his arm around her shoulders and steers her away from the throngs of people. 'That, Rose, was my boss, Masseria.'

Rose pauses in her step and widens her eyes. 'Oh and you just stood there and let me be snarky to him?' She questions and Charlie shrugs his should absently unable to suppress the smirk. Rose frowns. 'Seriously, what if he does something to you because of me?'

Charlie doesn't answer right away, still enjoying her comment to Masseria. 'He won't. He'll probably forget all about it and if he doesn't then I know what to say to make him forget it.'

'It's that easy? He doesn't seem the type.' Rose replies seriously.

'No, he'll probably offer suggestions how to get you under control.' Charlie answers casually and Rose feels herself hesitate in her step, thoroughly annoyed by what Charlie's just said. He doesn't seem to notice her anger.

'And? Will you?'

'Will I what? Listen to him? Fuck no. I happen to like you just the way you are. Wouldn't be with you if I didn't.' Charlie answers and Rose breathes a small sigh of relief. But then again she can't help but wonder if she were anyone else, would he still be willing to disregard boss's orders?

It's an interesting thought. It makes her curious. She's sure if she had been from this time or perhaps rubbed him the wrong way, he'd have no problem raising his hand to put her in her place. After all that is a very common practice, she's actually seen it on the streets and it makes her sick. And, who's to say he hasn't done so to the others before her? How does she know? She doesn't, that's the thing, and she probably won't, either.

However, he must be able to tell that should he ever try anything like that on her, it'd be the last thing he ever did.

She's curious, she wants to know, but decides to let it go for now. Everything between them is still new; they're still figuring one another out. Depending on how long things between them last, then she'd see. So she moves on. 'What's he so mad about?'

Charlie knows to whom she is referring to. Hard to explain that he's always angry, a perpetual scowl on his face. When he isn't being uncouth that is. 'I'm late with his cut of my money.'

'But you said Albert and Frank have it. Why won't he go see them?' Rose questions and attempts to make her stride match his, he's walking quickly as he thinks. However he continues to ensure that her hand it gripped tightly in his, it's as though he fears that she could be snatched from him if he were to let her go.

'Because, Rose, my Broadway gang is bit of a mix of everyone and that's why Masseria hates them. Joey may carry out many orders but it's me who runs the day-to-day operations. I'm just the logical person to deal with. Albert and Frankie are Calabrian, among others, and he won't talk to anyone but me.' Charlie informs her and they pause in the street for a moment, Rose looks over her shoulder to where Charlie is staring at something but makes no comment on it.

'And why's that?' She wonders and Charlie turns back to her with a bit of a defeated expression as if what he's about to tell her is an omission of guilt.

'Because I'm Sicilian and that automatically makes me trustworthy in his eyes.' Charlie explains and they cross the street to the other side. Rose frowns, that…doesn't really make much sense to her. Charlie hasn't made it a secret to her or his associates how much Masseria's archaic ways aggravate him. This seems to be something else to be added to his ever-growing list that irks Charlie so. To him, just because he had been born in Sicily doesn't make him above anyone else. Masseria doesn't see it like that, though. Neither does Maranzano. He's growing very annoyed with the constant lectures about who to conduct business with. They didn't include Meyer or Ben, nor Albert or Frank. He remembers hearing the first time they had spoken about them when they weren't around and just he was, to say he was shocked didn't even begin to cover it.

'That's a rather antiquated way of thinking, you're all pretty much after the same goal.' Rose replies seriously and finds it hard to believe that the mindsets of these higher-ranking 'leaders' are exclusionists to other Italians, how did that make sense?

'I know, I'm aware,' Charlie agrees and suddenly doesn't feel like going to dinner. He's got to head over to see Frank to get the money so that he can drop it off to Masseria the next morning. 'Their backwards way of thinking is irritating to say the least.'

Rose smiles at him and nods her head, understanding his frustrations clearly, however it could be used as something beneficial to him. 'Whether you want to see it as something bad, Charlie, it can be considered a stroke of luck.'

'You think so?' Charlie wonders with a sideways smirk and Rose nods her head, wrapping her arms around his neck and nodding. Her shoes certainly make it easier to kiss her, they nearly bring her to his height, it's a wonder she hasn't fallen over.

'Sure, think about it,' Rose replies when she pulls away from him. 'These men, rooted in their old ways, are exclusionists of any other ethnic crime group. Good for you because it's added value to your allies that you can wield the authority over them by being seen as one of them.'

'Interesting way of seeing things,' Charlie answers her and Rose absently shrugs at him. 'It's just a shame that my crew will always be viewed as inferior outsiders.'

'Then maybe you'll have to change that,' Rose replies and glances to where the restaurant sits a few steps from where they currently are. Rose shifts her gaze back to Charlie. 'Do you want to go back to the hotel?' She offers suddenly not feeling like she wants to remain in the public eye. Maybe it's the run in with Masseria that fuels her need to take herself off the streets, she isn't sure, but right now she just wants to take Charlie and hide out for the rest of the evening.

'I thought you'd never ask,' Charlie answers and Rose smirks up at him. 'Park Avenue or West 23rd Street?' He wonders and Rose ponders which hotel she wishes to stay at, the Chelsea or the Waldorf Towers? His suite or her own?

'Mine.' She decides and they swing back around to hit Manhattan's Chelsea neighbourhood. She loves being able to live in New York like this. It's a taste of freedom here, living how she wants, doing what she wants. A break from her reality back in her right century.

'We need work on your pronunciation, no more French to it. The butchering of the Italian language probably pissed him off more than your attitude.' Charlie informs her and Rose feels her cheeks flush from embarrassment. She clears her throat.

'I don't hear it!' She exclaims innocently. Charlie draws her closer. 'It couldn't be that bad…'

'No, you're picking it up quickly but there's a French tone to it, I know you're not a native speaker.'

'They're nearly the same.' Rose points out and Charlie stares at her.

'Nearly but not.' Charlie answers and Rose starts to laugh.

They don't notice the man reading the newspaper, leaning against the exterior of the building. They pass by him since he appears to be rather ordinary, keeping to himself, however as he lowers the paper to stare at the pair of them together, the old feelings begin to surface. He watches her lace hands with the man she walks beside, the two of them striding confidently down the street. He hates how good she looks on his arm, even if she is dressed in anything but the right clothing, preferring pieces from her own time. Her laugh stabs at him, listening to her enjoying a moment between them.

A thought strikes him. It's odd that he's even here, of course, but given what words had been exchanged between the two of them, and her abrupt disappearance, he had wanted to see for himself what she had seen in him.

So far she hasn't revealed a thing.

* * *

><p>He had seemed agitated when the spoke on the phone. She didn't know why, she inquired but he didn't tell her, instead wanting to know if she'd be coming today. Actually now that she recalls their conversation. He seemed perturbed that she had left him in the early morning, long before he awoke. All she had said in reply to him was that he knew she'd leave when she wanted, she promised she'd be back in the day, she just didn't know when. Well, she's here, now, she rang him and said if he had been so irked that she had left then he was welcome to meet her in Times Square. And for once in her life, she's actually early. She can see the square so hopefully she hasn't missed him and he isn't waiting.<p>

Been a few minutes past the meet up time, still nothing. That's very unlike him. He's usually so punctual; she hopes nothing serious has happened. Unsure of what to do or where to go, Rose stands in the square, waiting to see what'd happen. Something does happen, but not what she expected to happen.

Something runs into the back of her legs and she nearly loses her balance, throwing her arms out to the side to catch herself. She turns around, ready to give whatever hit her an earful when she is instantly quieted. A young girl with shiny dark curls, terrified, wide blue eyes looks up to her. There is a massive red welt on her cheek as if someone struck her. She frowns and the girl hurries to her feet and hides behind Rose's legs. She can't be more than five or six but she's cowering, trying make herself a small as possible and Rose can see why.

A large, angry man comes barrelling down the walkway, his gaze set on Rose before he lowers it to the little girl hiding behind her legs. Rose gets into a defensive position and folds her arms. The man's brown eyes are full of rage and he points to Rose multiple times.

'You! Give me the girl behind you.' He has trouble keeping his voice level. Several times it raises itself in volume. The Polish accent is thick; he must have recently arrived from Poland. Rose shakes her head at him when he stops in front of her. The little girl holds on to Rose's ankles.

'Not until you tell me what she's done.'

'She's a damned thief! Aren't you, you little brat!' The man shouts and the girl let's out a sob.

'What did she steal from you?'

'Fruit! I own a fruit shop a couple of blocks away and I caught this thief stealing apples!'

'So you chased her here and what did you plan on doing with her once you got her?' Rose wonders and reaches behind her to place a comforting hand on the girl's head. She feels the girl tense.

'Smack some sense into her and then turn her over to the police.'

'Seems rather drastic, wouldn't you say? How much did she take? Are you sure you even have the right girl? Maybe it was someone else; there isn't anything on her. She didn't have anything in her hands.' Rose explains and that comment seems to infuriate the man further. He balls his fists at Rose.

'How dare you question me, stupid broad! Course I have the right brat! I saw her with my own eyes!'

'What did the fruit total? I'll give you money.'

'I don't want your damned money, I want her family to pay for what their stupid thief for a daughter took.' He shouts to her and Rose presses her lips into a thin line. She grows more and more annoyed.

'And I'm offering you a chance to forget it, and to take the money before this turns into something you don't want it to.' Rose states seriously and moves her hands to her hips. She can see the man's face flush from anger.

'You should be minding your own damned business, give me that little brat!' The man lunges low for the girl, who lets out a terrified cry, and Rose quickly spins backward, throwing her elbow into the man's stomach. He gasps and drops to his knees.

Rose lowers herself to his level, crouching as she gives the man a hard look. 'Rather rude, wouldn't you say? Now you get nothing, in fact you're lucky I don't call for a policeman.'

The man says nothing, trying to formulate words to call her, to hurl at her but every time he does they're lost in the attempt to regain his composure. He continues to suck in the air as the pain in his abdomen intensifies and flowers out. Well if he can't verbally assault her, then he'll do something else. That bitch needs to learn her spot, how dare she even raise her hands to a man?

As he lifts his right fist, ready to connect to the side of her face, he feels something grab his arm firmly and squeeze it. He's stuck. He can't more his arm. He struggles to release it but the grip is firm. And it isn't the broad's; she's continuing to stare at him. So he turns up and pales at who he sees holding him back.

'Problem?'

'No.' He answers hastily but that answer merely serves to darken his eyes.

'Wasn't asking you. Rose, is there a problem?'

'No, Charlie, there isn't.' Rose straightens up and Charlie releases the man's arm. The man doesn't move from his spot. He locks eyes with the ground. Of all the people to threaten, to attack, he had to go after _that_ moll. There will be repercussions. He knows it. And it nearly drives him mad with fear.

He watches the broad turn around towards the thief and Charlie leans down and into the man's ear, squeezing his shoulder. 'If I catch you attempting to hurt my girl again, you won't live long enough to see the next day. Understand?'

The man says nothing and Charlie doesn't wait around to hear it, instead he heads towards Rose who is kneeling in front of the little girl. She has her arms wrapped around her as large tears push themselves from her eyes. She buries her face into Rose's neck and she puts her hand on the back of her head, standing up and the girl clings to her. She turns to Charlie.

'I made it.' Rose declares and Charlie turns around to see that the man had gone. Good.

'I can see that, what the hell happened? I just saw you throw your elbow into the guy.' Charlie wonders and stares at the girl still silently crying, so she gently starts moving around with her, rocking her slightly and it seems to make her feel more comfortable. She visibly relaxes but still keeps herself pressed tight to Rose, as if the man who chased her will be back. Thank god Rose knows what to do, he wouldn't know.

'He said she took apples from him, but she ran into me and she was empty handed.' Rose explains and Charlie frowns.

'She more than likely got rid of them. What's her name?'

'I don't know,' Rose admits and she has to gently pry the girl from her. 'What's your name?' She wonders and uses her thumb to dry the tears from her eyes.

She stares at Rose. Rose can see she's trying to understand the words but they seem to pass right through her. Charlie watches in confusion. 'Do you think she's mute?'

'Maybe, or maybe she doesn't speak English.'

'Or there's that.'

'Quel est votre nom?' Rose questions but again the girl shakes her head. Rose turns to Charlie. 'You try.'

Charlie stands beside Rose and the small girl turns to him, sensing what is coming next. 'Come ti chiami?' They only get a shake from her head as a response. Rose shifts her gaze from Charlie back to the girl. She's yet to tell him that she really likes listening to him speak in Italian. But. Time to focus.

'Okay, I've got one left and then it's a mystery and we'll have to take her to the police.' Rose decides and she sees Charlie become pensive.

'That'll scare her more.' Charlie surmises and Rose knows he's right.

'We can't wander all of Manhattan looking for where she lives,' Rose points out and Charlie mere sighs in response. 'Right then, kak tebya zovut?'

'Natal'ya.'

Rose and Charlie stare at one another before they shift their looks to the girl and Rose slowly smiles. 'Ah, well then. Privet Natal'ya.'

'Russian?' Charlie assumes and Rose smiles at him. Good to know that she can speak another language other than French, especially since there seems to be more Russians getting involved with the gangs. They have a viciousness to them, different from the others.

'Yes, Natalia's from Russia. Gde v Rossi vy?' Rose wonders and she can see Natalia stare off shyly.

'Moskva.'

'Moskva? Vy znayete , ya byl tam,' Rose replies and she sees Natalia's eyes widen but then she starts to cry again. She holds on to Rose tightly and rests her head on Rose's shoulder. She turns to Charlie. 'She's from Moscow.'

'Where does she live now? I'm sure her mother is franticly searching for her.' Charlie states and watches Natalia's fingers run over Rose's shoulder, feeling the softness of the olive coloured sweater.

'YA skuchayu po Moskve . YA yego tak khorosho znal . Vot , ya vsegda proigryval . Nikto ne ostanavlivayetsya, chtoby sprosit', yesli ya v poryadke , oni delayut vid, chto ne vidyat menya . Nikto ne zabotitsya .' Natalia explains and hugs Rose tighter. Rose sighs and rubs her back.

'What did she say?' Charlie wonders and Rose motions around them.

'She misses Moscow, she knew the streets well, she was never lost there. Here she says she's always lost. No one stops to ask if she's okay. She's invisible to them.' Rose replies and Charlie nods his head, knowing the feeling she's going through, but it'll pass. She'll learn it and then she'll never forget. Still it is scary when you don't know English and so young.

'Natal'ya , to, chto proizoshlo segodnya ? Gde tvoya mat'?' Rose wonders and Natalia shrugs her shoulders at her.

'Mama i ya byli poluchat' veshchi na uzhin. My byli v magazine, no zatem tolpa stala bol'she, i moya ruka skol'znula ot maminy. YA ne videl yeye bol'she. YA popytalsya posmotret', no ya poteryan. YA iskal navsegda.'

'She's been looking forever, she says. She was with her mother when they were shopping. The crowds got bigger, they got separated.' Rose translates and Charlie frowns.

'It must have been around lunch. That's the only time it could have gotten busier, enough to make a difference.' Charlie surmises and Rose nods her head.

'She must have just come from Moscow, if she doesn't know where she is. I thought her family would be in Little Odessa. In Brooklyn. Why Manhattan?' Rose wonders and Charlie frowns.

'What?'

'Brighton Beach? Wait…' She pauses. Damn. She's about ten to twenty years ahead of herself. The influx of Ukrainian Jews from Odessa hasn't happened yet. Brighton Beach isn't known as Little Odessa, Little Russia yet. Damn. Good job; explain your way out of that one, her mind taunts.

'You think her family is in Brooklyn?' Charlie repeats and Rose stares ahead, she can already feel his eyes on her. She's gotta be more careful.

'Maybe but I doubt it. They're here in Manhattan somewhere. Do you think she'd know if I asked?' Rose wonders and Charlie makes a face that tells her it isn't likely if she's still new to the city.

'It's worth a shot, I suppose, maybe she'll know a landmark, something we can recognise from her description.' Charlie replies and Rose nods her head.

'Natal'ya, vy znayete, gde vy zhivete?' Rose questions and Natalia shakes her head. Charlie sighs; this is going to be more difficult than he first thought. 'Net? Khorosho, vy mozhete opisat' to, chto ryadom s vami, yesli vy shag za predelami vashego doma?' Rose suggests and Natalia is quiet, thinking about her response for some time.

'I don't think she knows.' Charlie replies and lights up a cigarette. More silence between the three of them as they continue to stand in the middle of Times Square.

'YA vizhu bol'shoy kvadrat, yesli ya stoyu na ulitse. YA dumayu, chto eto zheleznodorozhnaya stantsiya. YA slyshu treniruyet mnogo. Eto delayet yego trudno spat' inogda.' Natalia explains and Rose frowns. She turns to Charlie who is staring at her waiting for a translation.

'Grand building?' Rose repeats and turns to Charlie. 'Trains?'

'Trains?' Charlie echoes and turns to face the streets, thinking. 'Penn Station.' He declares and Rose widens her eyes.

'Oh, of course!' Rose smiles. Natalia stares at them and then smiles because they are. She hopes they've figured out where she belongs. She hates this city some times. She misses Moscow so much. Natalia rests her head on Rose's shoulder as she and the man begin to walk in some direction Natalia doesn't know.

'Ledi , kak vas zovut ?' Natalia wonders and Charlie frowns. Her voice is, in spite of everything, small and quiet; she's still scared of where she is and her circumstances.

'Menya zovut Roza i eto Charli.' Rose motions to Charlie and Natalia turns her gaze to Charlie and smiles at him. He takes a long drag on the cigarette, he doesn't get children.

'Roza…' Natalia trails off and settles herself against Rose's shoulder once again and watches the people over her shoulder as they head away from their spot.

Rose turns up to Charlie. 'You seem…less stressed than when we spoke on the phone earlier.'

Charlie eyes her. 'Things are getting out of hand.'

Rose blinks. 'How so? The war? The…oh, the Castel…'

Charlie watches her as she continues to struggle with the pronunciation and inhales deeply on the cigarette; it's rather amusing actually. Rose gives him a pleading look to put her out of her misery. 'Castellammarese, yes, you're right.'

Rose flings him a don't patronise me look and feels Natalia playing with her hair. 'So, what happened?'

'Retaliation,' Charlie answers simply and Rose closes her eyes with a sigh. 'I warned them it would happen.'

'How? Reina family?' Rose questions and Charlie nods, he stops and Rose does as well, he points to a series of buildings she can still see from their spot in Times Square.

'See that building there?' Charlie points and notices that Natalia is staring at it too. He draws Rose closer and keeps his voice low. That's all he needs is to be caught talking about these types of things by the many eyes of Masseria. A quick scan of the crowd doesn't reveal anyone suspicious.

'Yes.'

'Corner window on the left façade, office is rented to Lucchese. After Reina's murder, Masseria appointed Joe Pinzolo to run the ice distribution racket. Until yesterday. When he was shot and killed in that office. I just came from informing Masseria of the Reina family's decision to formally join forces with Maranzano's.'

Rose bites her lip and Charlie watches Natalia starting to criss cross Rose's hair. Whatever keeps her quiet and not crying is fine by him. 'How'd he take that?'

'I nearly had my nose broken, how do you think he took it?'

Rose stares stunned even as they resume walking towards Penn Station. 'Why in the hell would he take it out on you? You warned him it would happen. When you kill your own ally to keep secret ones safe how did he think that was going to play out? That the Reina family would be okay with that?'

'Apparently.' Charlie answers and flicks the cigarette stub into the streets.

'What are you going to do? It seems Maranzano's faction is getting bigger all the time. Aren't you worried?' Rose wonders and Charlie turns to her.

'Of course, but I can't let Masseria know.'

'You can't tell me you'll go down with this ship.' Rose replies seriously and shifts Natalia so she's got a better grip of her. She can feel Natalia's fingers on her shoulder, feeling the softness of the sweater. Yeah, very soft and blocks out the wind well, she's learned that.

'No, of course not. Masseria is planning another hit. He hasn't told me who, yet, but something tells me it isn't local.' Charlie answers and Rose sighs.

'All this…this trading blows has me worried.' She admits and Natalia rests her head on Rose's shoulder. A case of hiccups over comes her. For a moment Rose wonders where she could possibly live, and hopes that her parents are out looking for her. Hopefully they'll find them first.

'Why?'

Rose flings him an unimpressed look. 'Why do you think?'

'Come the new year, hopefully things will have started to swing in our favour again, if not, I've got a backup plan.' Charlie explains and Rose looks to the ground, hiding her worry. Sure she knows the outcome, but that doesn't make her any less afraid for his safety. What if being here throws things out of balance. Charlie seems to sense her discomfort because he slides his arm around her waist.

'What's Plan B?' She wonders and rubs Natalia's back trying to soothe her from the hiccups. Charlie eyes her carefully.

'Negotiations.'

'To…' Rose trails off motioning slightly, gesturing in a way that Charlie understands. She is motioning a change of sides. And yes, she's correct. He'll not be dragged down in an increasingly one-sided war. Left wondering if he stayed on Masseria's side, if he'd be gunned down. It wasn't an if; it was when, of that he's sure. 'Oh…what if he finds out?'

'He won't.'

Rose tilts her head and gives Charlie a worried look. Doesn't matter they have a man who's essentially a double agent. It still makes her incredibly nervous for him. What's stopping Maranzano from sending people to the Waldorf Towers to eliminate him or to the Chelsea, she certainly doesn't want to die in a hail of bullets.

After all, they know Charlie's with her, from their standpoint, that means they're together.

What if they try to use her as a bargaining chip? Yeah, as if she'd even let it get to that point. Alliances shift so easily, she's starting to see that. But as Masseria's top-level man, what's Charlie supposed to do? He can only hold things together for so long before it becomes too much for him. And with all of Masseria's allies either dropping because of hits sanctioned by him or in retaliation, it doesn't matter. His support faction is growing dangerously small. Power is such a fleeting thing. She hopes Masseria's starting to learn that.

'If you say so…' Rose answers quietly, but she can't help but wonder who could be next and when the tides will start to shift back in their favour.

'You should ask her if anything looks familiar, if not, we'll have to get off 7th Avenue and try West 39th Street, wind our way down.' Charlie replies and they stop at the street junction while Rose holds Natalia out in front of her. Rose also doesn't miss the slight impatient tone to his voice.

'Milaya, razve lyuboye iz etogo vam znakomym?'

Natalia moves around in Rose's arms, twisting right and left to see if anything jogs her memory. All of the words are in a different language. She can't understand them. They're all lines and squiggles. She frowns. 'Net … no ya dumayu, chto … imeyetsya konditerskaya vozle nas. Kogda papa zanimayet menya iz inogda on pokupayet mne shokolad.'

'Confectionary?' Rose repeats and sets Natalia down. She immediately takes Rose's hand. Rose can see the red welt on her cheek is starting to lessen but she knows it'll leave an awful coloured bruise behind.

'That's a long sentence for a single word,' Charlie remarks and Rose smiles at him regardless. 'What about a confectionary?'

'She thinks she lives close to a confectionary. Is there one close to Penn Station?' Rose wonders and Charlie begins to rack his mind trying to think if there is one there.

'West 35th, I think.' Charlie answers, this is quickly becoming more of an endeavour than he first thought. The last thing he wanted to do today was escorting a lost child who speaks no English back to the tenement buildings somewhere in Midtown Manhattan.

Thankfully Rose had caught her first and even luckier, she spoke Russian. He should ask her where she picked that up, and why? By the sounds of it, that isn't an easy language to learn and in the complete opposite of French. How did she decide to skip learning another romantic language for that one? Then again that's probably the reason she's picking up the Italian he's trying to teach her, just as soon as she ditches the French accent, it'll be better.

He glances down to the small girl with dark hair and polished curls. Her hand is in Rose's tightly and she's pressed as tightly to her as possible. It leads him to wonder that had he been where Rose had been, would he even stop to help this girl? He hates to say it but he isn't sure he would, the simple fact being it didn't concern him. Plus the language barrier would have had him walking away from her that much quicker.

'I'm staying a few more days than I originally thought.' Rose abruptly says and Charlie turns his gaze to her. That's unexpected but welcome news. The boys are starting to get anxious, wanting to meet her, having only had glimpses of her as she wanders the streets. Problem is, introducing her to that many people could be overwhelming, which is why he's waiting for some function before he has to do the introductions. Strangely, one hasn't presented itself yet.

'Good to know, so where are we staying tonight?' Charlie questions and Rose smirks.

'Is that all you're thinking about?' She teases and Charlie nonchalantly shrugs.

'Maybe. One of many.' Charlie admits and Rose rolls her eyes playfully at him, she's unable to suppress the smirk.

'Roza, ya znayu , chto tsvetok stend .' Natalia abruptly interjects and Rose stops in her step, looking back at the lightly coloured blue awning that holds a man with a wide array of flowers. Now that she concentrates harder, she can smell the wonderfully mixed scent of the flowers drifting towards them.

'What?' Charlie turns to that same stand and then back to Natalia, she has a small smile on her face, carefully reserved joy.

'Flower stand, she recognises it. We have to be getting close.' Rose turns around slightly to see if she can spot someone in the crowds rushing towards them or someone shouting Natalia's name with that obvious accent. Nothing yet.

'West 37th. Well, I guess we'll see what happens as we get closer.' Charlie answers evenly. Rose can see that he wants to have this ordeal done and over with. She wonders why. Doesn't he get the sense of satisfaction by helping someone?

'Did you want to wait for me at the Towers?' Rose offers and Charlie glances to her.

'I'm fine.' He answers and Rose gives him a look. She opens her mouth to protest when she hears something faint in the distance. She doesn't hear it again.

'I don't believe you.' Rose states seriously and Charlie pauses in his step, grabbing her wrist as she walks by. She stops and Natalia bumps into the back of her. Rose arches her eyebrow as she smirks at him.

Charlie closes the distance between them and kisses her. 'Then that's your problem.' He replies with a grin. He's about to kiss her again when he feels the small girl dart from Rose's side to his and grips onto the overcoat tightly. He and Rose exchange confused looks.

'Roza! Roza! Papa!' Natalia cries and Rose stands on her toes to see where she can see him through the crowds. Charlie hoists her up, knowing those words in any language. Natalia twists in his grasp to stare over Charlie's shoulder and she waves enthusiastically. She wraps her arm around his neck so she can make herself taller and lean forward.

Charlie turns to Rose who has started to make her way through the crowds, hoping to bump into the man. He glances up to Natalia as she grips his neck harder. He carefully tries to loosen her grip. 'You know, you're quite strong given your size.'

Natalia merely blinks at him, her pale blue eyes searching his for understanding. The want to understand his words to even though she can't is very evident. Finally she gives up and smiles at him nonetheless.

'Natal'ya! Natal'ya!' A man's frantic voice is heard and Natalia once again leans over Charlie's shoulder and waves.

'Papa!'

'Syuda! Ser! Etot tak!' Rose calls to the man, hoping he'd hear her voice and move towards her. Charlie remains where he is, no point in running around to get lost again. He struggles to hold on to Natalia.

'Settle down, kid.' Charlie sets her down on the ground and she clutches onto his overcoat while she waits impatiently for Rose to return. She stands on her toes trying to see over the crowds.

Abruptly she darts into the crowd before Charlie has a chance to say anything or stop her. He curses and takes a step forward but as the crowd thins he sees Natalia in the strong embrace of a younger man, maybe the same age as himself and Rose, who is on his knees and Rose is standing beside them. Finally. This ordeal only took too long. He heads towards them as Rose lowers herself to their level and the man turns his gaze to her.

'Spasibo…' He states and they can hear his voice wavering as he stands with his daughter clasped tightly into his embrace.

'Vy radushny.' Rose answers and places her hand on his shoulder. The man presses his daughter tighter to him.

'Ona stal poteryannym v tolpakh. Moya zhena iskali yeye chasami. Ona prishla domoy v panike, i poetomu my iskali vmeste, no my ne mogli nayti yeye. Kogda my obratilis' k politsii, oni skazali, chto nichego ne mog sdelat', kak ona byla tol'ko propali bez vesti vsego za neskol'ko chasov.' The man explains and Rose shakes her head sympathetically at the man's telling of the story. She looks to Natalia relieved to be in her father's embrace once more.

Rose smiles sadly. She turns to Charlie. 'We were right, she got lost in the crowds and her mother couldn't find her. The police wouldn't help because she technically hadn't been missing long enough.' Rose translates and Charlie shakes his head.

'Useless.' He comments and Rose nods her head quickly.

'Mne zhal', oni by ne pomogat'. Natal'ya govorit, chto vy yeshche ne byli zdes' dolgoye vremya? Ona skuchayet po Moskve.' Rose comments quickly and the man gives her a small smile and rubs Natalia's back.

'Da, ya dumal, chto eto bylo by khorosho dlya nas. No veshchi ne luchshe, chem v Moskve.' He complains but Rose motions around them.

'Eto izmenitsya k luchshemu, on prosto zanimayet vremya.' She promises and the man gives her an appreciative smile. It may seem disenchanting to be here in a country that is struggling in a Depression, when all you've heard is nothing but the best and the promises of a better life. But it'll turn around. In about nine years or so but she doesn't say that to him.

'Spasibo, yeshche raz postavshchik byvshikh yey. Spasibo.' He states suddenly and gives Rose his hand. She is taken back but shakes it nonetheless.

'Ty bol'she, chem privetstviye.' Rose replies and grips his hand tightly. He then turns to Charlie, who's been silent as he's not a clue what they've been talking about although he can guess. He gives Charlie his hand next and they exchange a quick and firm handshake.

'Thank you.' The man states in shaky English and Charlie gives him a curt nod.

'You're welcome.'

The man gives them a quick smile and heads back the way he came, most likely to meet up with his wife so they can be reunited. Charlie and Rose watch them leave. Natalia waves to them over her father's shoulder enthusiastically.

'Do svidaniya!' Natalia calls and Rose waves back to her. They watch until the crowd blends them together and they become indistinguishable.

Charlie puts his arms around her waist. 'So, what were we doing again?'

Rose turns up to him with a smile. 'I think we were trying to decide where we're sleeping tonight.'

'Is it your turn to decide?' Charlie wonders, their system for alternating decisions on where to sleep has been working out quite well.

'Nope yours.' Rose answers but notices that they're heading towards the Chelsea nonetheless, she finds herself smiling at that. He must be subconsciously making up his mind.

Charlie doesn't answer her, instead he draws her closer and they continue to walk down the street. He's got her for a couple of extra days, this is perfect. He'll take her to dinner in Queens. With all the coming and going she does, he realises that he does miss her but at the same time the war has kept him so busy that he doesn't always have time to miss her. It's usually when she comes back to him that he's aware of how long the time has been.

And they usually have a lot to make up for.

* * *

><p>'Truly, Rose, I'm so sorry; I didn't think she'd do that. I didn't even know she was working there.' Charlie calls to her from his spot on her bed. He's acting in a way she's never seen him before, conveying an emotion she didn't think he expressed very often. Embarrassment. She comes out of the bathroom. He's like an entirely different person to her right now. However she can see he's going over the scene in his mind again.<p>

Charlie looks up when he hears her soft footfalls on the carpet. The deep jewel toned blue dress that seemed to lighten her eyes still sports the stain around her chest. Rose emerged from the bathroom with a wet cloth as she continued to rub at it. The ends of her once curled hair stick together from the liquid. Rose smiles as she glances up at him.

'What? The girl or the girl tossing wine in my face?' Rose questions with a playful tone. Charlie doesn't meet her gaze.

'Both, when you word it like that.'

'What a waste of a good wine.' Rose counters with a small laugh but Charlie doesn't return it.

'I'm sorry.'

Rose sinks down beside him, tossing the cloth back on the bed and attempts to run her hands through her hair, but the wine has matted it tightly to itself and Rose feels her fingers get stuck, she opens her mouth in pain and tugs a little softer. Still no luck. She'll have to shower it out. She puts her hand on his knee.

'It's happened. Nothing to be done about it now. She's jilted, that's for sure. You two have a bad breakup?' Rose teases and Charlie eyes her. The last thing he wants to do is talk about _her_, but Rose is prying it out of him, like she always does.

'I didn't think so.'

'Most men don't.' She replies evenly. She nearly added that the thing that probably ticked her off the most was the fact that she would be losing someone who funded her ability to be a party girl. Someone who most likely bought her gifts…

'I simply said I met someone else.' Charlie answers and Rose can picture him telling the Louise Brookes wannabe, in his firm voice, that it was over, to get over it and to get lost. He's lost interest in her.

Yeah, she'd be upset too, especially if her ex had come to her place of work, intentionally or not, and flaunted a new girl in her face. But did that really merit the tossing of wine in her face? Maybe. She was smart enough not to do it to Charlie. She knew better than to evoke his wrath.

'I bet she was used to sharing you with other women. She didn't want to be put aside and I bet she was angry that you were committing yourself to me.' Rose surmises and it's like she's taken his ex's anger and eloquently worded the anger and resentment she had hurled at him in the interim while Rose had been gone.

She'd known that he didn't like to stay tied to one woman, and he had told her, a long time ago that if this was something she wanted, then she'd better be fine with it. Outwardly she had said she would be but when they were alone together she lamented the fact that he wouldn't stay with just her. She didn't stay that night. He hadn't let her. And then Rose came back. And he wanted her badly. And he stayed faithful to her because she said it was nonnegotiable, question it once and she's gone. There's also the fact that she is more than enough for him.

'How'd you know?' Charlie finally wonders and Rose absently shrugs, still attempting to run her fingers through her hair. Giving up she places her hand on the bed behind them to steady herself.

'I could see it. In the Chelsea's bar, that one night.' Rose replies, that's all she says on the matter. She doesn't add that he appeared to be over her antics, her attitude, how drunk she was while he hadn't been. It's social for him; she was there to party.

'You could tell?' Charlie wonders and Rose shrugs absently.

'Maybe.'

'When I saw you again, I had to talk to you.' Charlie merely answers and Rose gives him a crooked smile. He covers her hand with his.

'I'm glad you did.' Rose merely responds and leans forward to kiss him. She pulls away and decides to shower the smell of wine off of her. She doesn't like the feel of the stiffness to her hair as it brushes her skin.

Charlie watches her slip off the dress, letting it fall around her ankles as she steps out of it and into the bathroom. Charlie falls back against the bed and replays the encounter over and over again even as he hears the water in the shower go on and off. Rose handled it with so much…her attitude had been so calm even as Gayle screamed at him, caused a scene, cut him off so he couldn't get a word in edge wise and then to add insult, when she had picked up his wine glass and toss the contents into Rose's face, hoping it'd incense him enough to strike back. He nearly did. As Gayle continued to scream at him, Rose had calmly dried herself off as best she could, she hadn't jumped up or back or cursed at Gayle or anything of the sort. Even as she and him engaged in a shouting match, he hadn't seen Rose settle the bill calmly, or even stand up to get around to his side, putting her hands on his shoulder and she had watched for a few more minutes before she had stepped between them and blocked an attempt from Gayle to take a swing at him.

_'And you must be…?'_

_'Gayle. Who the hell are you?'_

_'It's obvious, isn't it?'_

_'That's what I thought. You're dating _her_?! You lookin' for sophistication? The hell is wrong with you? That over me?'_

She had nearly reached for Rose's half full glass of wine before Rose had put her hand on Gayle's arm she had recoiled as if Rose's touch had been poison. Her simple comment had been it's over, and let it go. And then she had taken his hand and led him out the door. The silence had been deafening. And the embarrassment. Not much can leave him without words but that had been one of those times.

He's just so relieved that Rose's character is so much…better than what he's been used to dating. When she wanted to, Rose could instantly shift the air around her. She could become fierce, strong and her complexity could grow. She would never be simple to him; she could be odd to him, in a good way. She had things to say, always had things to say and even though she had flaws, as all people do, when she let hers show, it didn't bother him. She was ok. Her resilience to events that brought her down made him envious some times, because she would be on her feet again in no time.

He feels the bed shifting and he turns to see Rose lying on her side, resting her head against her hand while smiling at him. He's just glad Rose has a calm demeanour, so he places his hand on her knee. But there is one thought that comes to mind when they're alone together and he's studying her like he is now, those impish hazel eyes. Unstoppable. Whatever she wanted, she would take. And it would always be done with a smile.

'I hope you're not still thinking about it.' Rose comments and she covers his hand with hers. She watches his eyes go up and down the length of her.

'Maybe.'

'Oh, stop it. I diffused the situation. It's over. These things happen. Sometimes. First for me if I'm honest. Still…' Rose pauses and smiles brightly at him.

'Still…' Charlie echoes and Rose leans in to place her hand on his cheek and kiss him deeply.

Hopefully there isn't any more displays of crazy from the ex girlfriends. She isn't sure she'd be able to stay that calm. She's never been on the receiving end of a jilted ex before. Ah, there isn't time to think about it now, anyway. They're in the middle of something now.


	11. Chapter 11: 1930

'Truly, Rose, I'm so sorry; I didn't think she'd do that. I didn't even know she was working there.' Charlie calls to her from his spot on her bed. He's acting in a way she's never seen him before, conveying an emotion she didn't think he expressed very often. Embarrassment. She comes out of the bathroom. He's like an entirely different person to her right now. However she can see he's going over the scene in his mind again.

Charlie looks up when he hears her soft footfalls on the carpet. The deep jewel toned blue dress that seemed to lighten her eyes still sports the stain around her chest. Rose emerged from the bathroom with a wet cloth as she continued to rub at it. The ends of her once curled hair stick together from the liquid. Rose smiles as she glances up at him.

'What? The girl or the girl tossing wine in my face?' Rose questions with a playful tone. Charlie doesn't meet her gaze.

'Both, when you word it like that.'

'What a waste of a good wine.' Rose counters with a small laugh but Charlie doesn't return it.

'I'm sorry.'

Rose sinks down beside him, tossing the cloth back on the bed and attempts to run her hands through her hair, but the wine has matted it tightly to itself and Rose feels her fingers get stuck, she opens her mouth in pain and tugs a little softer. Still no luck. She'll have to shower it out. She puts her hand on his knee.

'It's happened. Nothing to be done about it now. She's jilted, that's for sure. You two have a bad breakup?' Rose teases and Charlie eyes her. The last thing he wants to do is talk about _her_, but Rose is prying it out of him, like she always does.

'I didn't think so.'

'Most men don't.' She replies evenly. She nearly added that the thing that probably ticked her off the most was the fact that she would be losing someone who funded her ability to be a party girl. Someone who most likely bought her gifts…

'I simply said I met someone else.' Charlie answers and Rose can picture him telling the Louise Brookes wannabe, in his firm voice, that it was over, to get over it and to get lost. He's lost interest in her.

Yeah, she'd be upset too, especially if her ex had come to her place of work, intentionally or not, and flaunted a new girl in her face. But did that really merit the tossing of wine in her face? Maybe. She was smart enough not to do it to Charlie. She knew better than to evoke his wrath.

'I bet she was used to sharing you with other women. She didn't want to be put aside and I bet she was angry that you were committing yourself to me.' Rose surmises and it's like she's taken his ex's anger and eloquently worded the anger and resentment she had hurled at him in the interim while Rose had been gone.

She'd known that he didn't like to stay tied to one woman, and he had told her, a long time ago that if this was something she wanted, then she'd better be fine with it. Outwardly she had said she would be but when they were alone together she lamented the fact that he wouldn't stay with just her. She didn't stay that night. He hadn't let her. And then Rose came back. And he wanted her badly. And he stayed faithful to her because she said it was nonnegotiable, question it once and she's gone. There's also the fact that she is more than enough for him.

'How'd you know?' Charlie finally wonders and Rose absently shrugs, still attempting to run her fingers through her hair. Giving up she places her hand on the bed behind them to steady herself.

'I could see it. In the Chelsea's bar, that one night.' Rose replies, that's all she says on the matter. She doesn't add that he appeared to be over her antics, her attitude, how drunk she was while he hadn't been. It's social for him; she was there to party.

'You could tell?' Charlie wonders and Rose shrugs absently.

'Maybe.'

'When I saw you again, I had to talk to you.' Charlie merely answers and Rose gives him a crooked smile. He covers her hand with his.

'I'm glad you did.' Rose merely responds and leans forward to kiss him. She pulls away and decides to shower the smell of wine off of her. She doesn't like the feel of the stiffness to her hair as it brushes her skin.

Charlie watches her slip off the dress, letting it fall around her ankles as she steps out of it and into the bathroom. Charlie falls back against the bed and replays the encounter over and over again even as he hears the water in the shower go on and off. Rose handled it with so much…her attitude had been so calm even as Gayle screamed at him, caused a scene, cut him off so he couldn't get a word in edge wise and then to add insult, when she had picked up his wine glass and toss the contents into Rose's face, hoping it'd incense him enough to strike back. He nearly did. As Gayle continued to scream at him, Rose had calmly dried herself off as best she could, she hadn't jumped up or back or cursed at Gayle or anything of the sort. Even as she and him engaged in a shouting match, he hadn't seen Rose settle the bill calmly, or even stand up to get around to his side, putting her hands on his shoulder and she had watched for a few more minutes before she had stepped between them and blocked an attempt from Gayle to take a swing at him.

_'And you must be…?'_

_'Gayle. Who the hell are you?'_

_'It's obvious, isn't it?'_

_'That's what I thought. You're dating _her_?! You lookin' for sophistication? The hell is wrong with you? That over me?'_

She had nearly reached for Rose's half full glass of wine before Rose had put her hand on Gayle's arm she had recoiled as if Rose's touch had been poison. Her simple comment had been it's over, and let it go. And then she had taken his hand and led him out the door. The silence had been deafening. And the embarrassment. Not much can leave him without words but that had been one of those times.

He's just so relieved that Rose's character is so much…better than what he's been used to dating. When she wanted to, Rose could instantly shift the air around her. She could become fierce, strong and her complexity could grow. She would never be simple to him; she could be odd to him, in a good way. She had things to say, always had things to say and even though she had flaws, as all people do, when she let hers show, it didn't bother him. She was ok. Her resilience to events that brought her down made him envious some times, because she would be on her feet again in no time.

He feels the bed shifting and he turns to see Rose lying on her side, resting her head against her hand while smiling at him. He's just glad Rose has a calm demeanour, so he places his hand on her knee. But there is one thought that comes to mind when they're alone together and he's studying her like he is now, those impish hazel eyes. Unstoppable. Whatever she wanted, she would take. And it would always be done with a smile.

'I hope you're not still thinking about it.' Rose comments and she covers his hand with hers. She watches his eyes go up and down the length of her.

'Maybe.'

'Oh, stop it. I diffused the situation. It's over. These things happen. Sometimes. First for me if I'm honest. Still…' Rose pauses and smiles brightly at him.

'Still…' Charlie echoes and Rose leans in to place her hand on his cheek and kiss him deeply.

Hopefully there isn't any more displays of crazy from the ex girlfriends. She isn't sure she'd be able to stay that calm. She's never been on the receiving end of a jilted ex before. Ah, there isn't time to think about it now, anyway. They're in the middle of something now.


	12. Chapter 12: 1931 & 1930

The rest of September passed without incident. Well, that she knew of, anyway. The papers didn't report on another murder, so she had assumed that that was a good sign. Things are quieting down. At least for now. She believed that once October came around, things would start back up again. But as October approached her, it too passed into the new month without a bang. Another good sign. But just because things appeared to be quiet, on the surface, anyway, it didn't mean that Charlie had been any less busy than before. A week would go by and she'd see him once or twice and the nights she did spend at the Waldorf Towers or he at the Chelsea, it meant he was gone by morning. A rare feat. She normally didn't even hear him get up and slip out. Other times she did and had gotten up with him, relishing in the few moments they had between them before he would leave and she would be unsure as to when they'd see one another again. And so she'd stay behind, lingering until she had felt ready to get up or when work rang her. Usually it had been the latter.

She knew the reason; at least, she believes she does, why Charlie is abruptly gone, harder to get a hold of and why he usually makes contact first. The negotiations have started. Perhaps in passing, with nothing serious to come of them, yet. She believes it's just to test the waters but that means he's got to be extremely careful as to whom he talks to and who he's seen with. He had been keeping his answers to her inquires brief and simple. Just in case. Perhaps he had been still trying to gage her trustworthiness. She hadn't been insulted or hurt, it's what he feel comfortable doing and she understands. She had been doing the same thing to him since they met. The carefully masked answers and revelations that were only half-truths. And he never questioned her either.

And yet there had been some good that had come from their talks in bed. He talked to her a bit more about the night they met. She doesn't recall how they ended up on that subject but they did and he hadn't minded. He had met up with the men she remembered from the limo in the streets late at night just as he had been on his way back from finishing up his business when they approached him. Or jumped him as he corrected himself. The fight, he had told her, had been bad, with both sides sustaining multiple injuries before they had managed to get him under control. She had questioned if he had known them, because he had mentioned a name to the cops while she had been there. And he hesitated. He hesitated! Before he told her no, he didn't. She knew he had been lying. And she believed it had been the cops mentioned by him. He hadn't agreed or disagreed merely kept silent. She knew he had done the same thing when the cops had dragged him out of the hospital for questioning, he still in pain from the attack, she only had to imagine his discomfort as the hours dragged on by. Charlie not saying anything but the cops refusing to let him go. That's why no one had ever been arrested for the crime. It angered her.

But Rose remembered his crooked smile at her as he had put his hand on her cheek, since she had been scowling, of which she didn't remember, and had said to her it didn't matter. She had said she had been attempting to picture the fight, the stab wounds…everything. But Charlie had shrugged. The only thing that had kept him going was the desire to take the lives of those that had jumped him, in whatever capacity he could. And the adrenaline, she thought silently. Sadly, he had said, he didn't get that chance. Her smile had been weak, he told her. So she had taken his hand tightly in hers. He had been fine, survived that attempt and the one a few months later. All had been well.

The attack, he informed her when she wanted to know, had been done by a boss, she didn't questioned who, she had an inkling that it's his current one. And the boss had wanted to keep him in line but those he had sent to attack him had gotten orders mixed up and thought they had been there to do a hit. Thankfully the boss had sent idiots; Charlie had called them, utterly incompetent on how to effectively kill someone. The knife had been too dull and when the one attacker had run it across his throat, he had positioned the knife too high. So it had been botched. That one, he admitted, had hurt.

She's been attacked before, shot at and had received wounds from a knife before, claws from creatures but she doesn't know how she'd deal with a throat slashing with such good humour as Charlie had. The subject shifted.

He had wanted to know why she had been wandering around Staten Island in the first place, alone. She had smiled at him, kissing him briefly but deeply as she pulled away she had shrugged. She needed to think. She had just left her job, confused and angry about what she needed to do next.

Charlie had wanted to know why she left. She had folded her arms and glared at the wall in front of them. Thinking about it nearly brought the hot tears of shame to her eyes. The hard lump in her throat hadn't been easy to swallow. She had felt his eyes on her and so she summoned her strength and swallowed the difficult lump in her throat. She had quit because she hadn't felt respected in her position. And she told him about the Ruby Jade Incident. The first person she had ever told about it. Besides Kate. And confessed that she still felt like she's on display, that she's covered in a layer of filth she can't seem to get rid of, no matter how hard she tried. That she had been scarred by that event. How it continues to affect her.

When she had finished telling Charlie about it, not having looked at him the entire time. His eyes had held hers deeply. She took small breaths then, she could tell he was trying to think of something to say. She saw the muted horror in his look…she hadn't been able to tell what he had been thinking. He said she deserved nothing but the best and that if she had felt she wasn't respected then it had been the right choice to leave. He had wanted to know if she felt better having left. She frowned at him, wondering why she hadn't thought about that herself. She nodded carefully with an apprehensive smile as he gripped her chin gently. Chin up, beautiful, he had said to her, don't let it get to you. She's strong and they couldn't handle it. Rose smiled at him and promised him that she'd find her inner bitch and run with her. He had laughed with her, proud to be with her. It had been such a wonderfully new feeling. That had been the last lightness to their nights. After that encounter, things seemed to get slightly more stressful and Charlie's moods shifted from fine to be around to perpetually pissed off for nights on end. And then things quieted down once again. But things never stay the same.

The semblance of peace had been shattered on 23 October. It had been in the middle of the night something had awoken her. Even now, as she attempts to recall what it had been it escapes her. He hadn't been in bed beside her and it had been early. Early enough that she had felt as though she had only been asleep for a few hours. As she sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she heard his voice, low in the other room. She had slipped from the bed and cautiously made her way to the door, as it had been slightly ajar she opened it further and peered out, just in case someone had been with him. But Charlie had been alone. He was conversing with someone on the other line. Due to the distance between them and how low he had been speaking, she had only gotten bits and pieces of the conversation.

'Mineo's finished it. Joe Aiello's dead,' Charlie had said as he leaned back against the couch. There had been a pause, and he had leaned forward. 'Mineo's coming back from Chicago under a different name,' Again there had been a pause as she had listened to the strange names, having no idea to whom they belonged to. 'No, that's the good thing. No, I know but just because…yes, I'm aware. The power struggle in Chicago right now is the perfect cover. Capone's a Castellammarese alley as well; people will assume he sanctioned the hit _because_ of the power struggle between the two of them. They won't think the hit was ordered from New York. Fine.'

She had heard the receiver click. That had been it. She turned back into the room, hearing his faint sigh and so she had decided to go out to see him, thinking he might have wanted to talk to her.

He had turned up to her with a relieved look and she had sat beside him. 'Couldn't sleep?' She had ventured, keeping her voice low as well.

'I wish that were the problem.' He had replied, he sounded, to her when she recalls that night, rather exhausted. He had put his hand on her knee and left it there for a moment before he had ran it up her inner thigh.

'Things are getting bad?' She had questioned, not adding anything else because she knew he knew what she had been talking about. He had stared at the liquor cabinet at the other end of the room before he turned to her with an unreadable expression on his face.

'We're losing.' He had replied, serious, his tone defeated.

'Still?'

'People are defecting, more and more each day.' Charlie had informed her and she had drawn her knees to her chest, staring at her toes in thought.

'What are you going to do?'

'Vito and I have to make a decision.'

She had an idea but that did not make it any less dangerous. He was going to play with fire. And she remembered hoping that he wasn't going to get burned. She, of course, knew of the outcome but she's a time traveller, what would happened if she had unconsciously altered something, mentioned something in passing that would or already had altered the way he would look at a situation? What if she got him killed?

He must have seen the uncertainty in her eyes because he drew her closer to him. She had pressed her lips together, wishing that this could be over, that this war could end, but there had to be many more deaths before it would, including two leaders. When would it get better?

She had continued to wonder that statement after that night as well. Every night he hadn't come back to her bed she had wondered if her being in this time altered something, she kept her paranoia carefully masked, pretended as though things were normal to her. She had waited up for him. Sometimes he had come to her and sometimes he hadn't. She had continued to do her own thing, staying out of his business even though she had known what it was about. If she had inquired, the answers received had been minimal.

October had ended on a quiet note, just as it had begun. The nights grew colder; frost had been on the windows every morning and she had believed that this territorial war would be finished sooner rather than later. But that hadn't been the case. The fifth of November had always been important to her, she had returned home to celebrate, a small impromptu gathering with Jack, his friends and Mickey and Martha. That had been great. She had a really good time.

She had to decline the invite from Jack to stay the night, she could tell he knew something was up with her but she didn't elaborate, instead she chose to head back to New York. Slightly buzzed and tired.

Something was different when she had opened the door to his suite that night she had returned. She rang him quickly, just to ensure he was there. The previous day, she had seen him off as he had simply informed her he would be in the Bronx, unsure of his return. It had been important. She had walked out with him, saying she had to pick something up at the Chelsea. Who had been waiting for him outside startled her. That meeting would be important. All of those people gathered outside waiting for Charlie were more than likely the last of Masseria's allies. Two men she didn't recognise, until the name Mineo had been uttered. Mineo, who had finished the Aiello hit in Chicago, was flanked by the other man she hadn't a clue of his identity. Masseria, she had recognised him immediately, she had felt his eyes on her the entire time. Vito ended up stepping in front of Masseria to shield her from his gaze. He saw her look of relief. She had only stopped because she wanted to say hello to Vito, they had met a handful of times, usually in the streets. He had approached her first for pleasantries when she had been alone, introducing himself, she taken back by who she had been speaking with. And startled that he had known who she was. He had simply smiled. Charlie couldn't keep secrets from his associates for long. He had said to her that he was looking forward to the day when she'd be formally introduced to everyone. She had felt dazed, how many people would she be meeting?

Once Charlie had joined them, she had bid them good day and headed out, that feeling of being watched hadn't left her, even as she rounded the corner and left their sight. The Bronx. She had doubted his return that night and grew despondent when she had been right. So she had stayed at the Chelsea, resolved to enjoy the festivities of November 5th, she had. And then she had come back.

She hadn't seen Charlie right away, merely felt the chill, as the French doors to the balcony were wide open. As the curtains melted away she had seen him outside and she drew her coat tighter to her as she stepped out. She had always been jealous of his view, better than hers at the Chelsea. More picturesque. Well more landscapes. Ah, more buildings. It flowed nicer. Even as she had wrapped her arm around his waist and he drew her closer to him, he had stayed silent.

'How was the Bronx?' She had ventured. Charlie hadn't said much.

'I assume you had a better day than me?' He had wondered, he was always so good at avoiding her questions, and Rose smiled.

'Bonfire Night. A friend and I had a small gathering celebrating.' Rose had explained and Charlie had started at her with a quizzical expression.

'What? Bonfire Night?'

She had smiled at him. 'One of the little things from England I take with me. It's November 5th. Guy Fawkes Night.' She explained. She hadn't wanted to inquire as to how well he knew English history. He had been silent, thinking.

'Right, I think I remember reading about that. The Gunpowder Plot.'

'You never cease to impress me.' She had told him, that was the truth all right.

'The feeling is mutual.' He had assured her but saw the pensive look ebb its way back. She had placed her hand on his cheek and tilted her head.

'What's happened? I know something has. Tell me.'

'Steve Ferrigno was killed. Several hours ago.' He explained. Rose widened her eyes, she had no idea who he had been but she takes that from Charlie's morose expression he had been a friend and an ally.

'Oh, no…'

'I've heard rumours that Valachi has been boasting about the hit. Telling people he, some hitman from Chicago, and Profaci had been watching us meet at Steve's apartment yesterday.'

'With this done…people are going to leave, Charlie…you're running out of options…' Rose had cut herself off; worried she'd say something she shouldn't. Like how much she doubted Profaci had actually participated in the assassination. A future mob boss wouldn't have gotten that close.

He had kissed her forehead, and she knew he knew. 'I'm aware.'

They hadn't said more. At least, not that she had recalled. She believed that night he had made his decision. If he stayed with Masseria, he'd be killed; it was only a matter of time. He knew things were going from bad to worse, the original war, the Castellammarese versus the non-Castellammarese factions were becoming null and void. Eroded. She held him tighter. Even as the night grew later and later, her breath as she breathed out became more and more defined until Charlie had lead her back inside and closed the doors. She had sat by the fire until she had fallen asleep only to be awoken abruptly by a strange dream in his bed. Not shocking as she had woken up alone. A trend had followed. She had woken up alone for three days before he came back.

She had even planned something nice to celebrate his birthday at the end of November and had simply informed him that he needed to be back before the sun set, around five. He promised her he would, swore up and down. But he hadn't arrived back in time. She mulled around his suite, hoping he was a bit late. She waited and waited for him, the hour drew later until she had given up, falling asleep, still in her trench coat. She was awoken by the sound of the door opening; she had slid out of bed to meet him in the doorway. His embrace of her had been filled with apologies. Only after they sat together on the bed had she gotten the story.

Masseria had been informed of one of his dwindling allies had been passing information to the cops about warehouses where the bootlegged liquor was held before being distributed. The guy had a record and was looking at a lengthy sentence. His cooperation would have reduced the sentence dramatically. Charlie had been tasked with finding out who it was that had talked and eliminate them. He had spent the entirety of the night and early morning hours around Manhattan and Queens. He had looked every bit exhausted and had been drifting in and out of coherence the more she had wanted to know. Finally she had just let him rest while she went off and did her own job.

She remembered him asking what had been under that trench coat, she had told him he'd find out later. He had laughed. But she had come back later that night and he hadn't been there. Of course.

As Christmas approached she knew she had a decision to make. Charlie had invited her to spend the holidays with him. He sounded quite insistent. She hadn't wanted to admit it then, still even thinking about it makes her uncomfortable, but when he wanted her to spend Christmas of 1930 with him, she had been nervous. She hadn't had a reason to be, she didn't think so. She hadn't had plans then either, at least not in her time. Jack hadn't offered anything, not yet, so truly she didn't have plans made. She had normally found herself at little morose around that time anyway; she always missed her family around this time.

He had casually asked her on their way out of the Chelsea in early December. She was on her way back to London to meet with Kate and Charlie had told her he was merely meeting someone. He didn't tell her who and she hadn't inquired. But it made her wonder if the secret negotiations had started and the he was looking for a way to end this war. The public was becoming much more aware that something was happening between the gangs, they knew they were warring.

Vito had been waiting for Charlie; he gave her a nod as she headed south while they had gotten in to a car. Vaguely she had heard Vito inquire if they should give her a lift, but Charlie told him to drive. She had smiled. Finally he had gotten that she prefers to walk everywhere. And hide when she had to jump.

She hadn't listened very well during that meeting, she stared out the window of the conference room while they talked. She was wondering what she ought to do. She had reminded herself that she really didn't have plans for the holidays, it would be nice to spend them with someone whose company she enjoyed. Then she remembered a problem. What if Jack wanted her to be around for Christmas? She could always decline politely, saying she'd already made commitments, oh but then he'd want to know why and with whom. Jack doesn't even know she still jumps back to New York in 1930, she knew he assumed that once the encounter with the Onta had finished up she had collected her things and that had been all. She could never tell him why she continued to go back there, to see him. If Jack discovered who her lover was then she'd be in trouble. She knew she would be.

When she had met up with Charlie that night, resolved in her decision, she had said she would love to. And he had genuinely appeared happy at that announcement. Probably one less stressful thing he had to worry about. Because even though he was being extremely careful about what he told her, people always find out things. Because when Masseria had been waiting for Charlie a few times in the morning when they usually had gone their separate ways, she didn't like the look in his eyes. It always worried her that he found out Charlie was communicating with the enemy. Trouble was, Masseria never said anything and Charlie had never related that he knew either.

Even now she hopes she is merely reading too much in to these events. She pulls her jacket tighter to her as the wicked winds stir up the snow in front of her. What a dreadful night to be walking around the streets. Her boots are getting wet and her feet cold. That fireplace sounds better and better each passing minute. She lets her thoughts wander to the end of the previous year.

As Christmas drew closer, the weeks had gone by so fast; she had been working so much, gone to different parts of the globe, different planets. There had been one time she jumped from Spain to California to the planet called Ju that when she had finally stopped in her flat in London, she sat in the arm chair to collect herself, she had woken up the next morning disorientated because she had no idea where she was or how she'd gotten there. Even though she knew she had to get back to New York, she took her time getting ready, showering slowly, dressing with care…by the time she had arrived, she made sure to set the time back an extra couple of hours, that way she could get a couple extra hours. Well worth it.

When Charlie had found her asleep that morning he questioned her as to what happened. She hadn't meant to be dismissive but she had come across that way. Charlie had seen how exhausted she still was so he dropped the subject, much to her relief. Instead he told her where they would be in a few weeks time, Christmas Day. Inside that comment made her panic, her heart started racing. But she had been pleasant and inquired where. Brooklyn. That's all he had given her. She spent the rest of the day trying to figure out who would be living there that she knew. But that had been the funny part. She didn't know anyone. Well, not personally, she had merely read the names. She hadn't met anyone. Is that what had made her nervous? Or had it been that Charlie wanted her to spend the holiday with him? She doesn't know, that battle between good and bad had raged on her mind once again though, she remembers a couple of sleepless nights in London thinking about it. And with no one to talk to it continued to eat away at her.

Rose pauses in the street, waiting for the traffic to thin before she walks across the street. Given the time, surprisingly, the traffic is still rather thick. What does she expect? This is New York City. Thankfully she's nearly to the Waldorf Towers. However she pauses, glancing over her shoulder. Feels like she's being watched. And yet nothing stands out her, people move around her, their eyes locked ahead of them. Only some pause to lift their eyes to hers. Those that do lean against buildings or streetlamps are casual and no one locks gazes with her. Maybe she's simply imaging it. She keeps her gaze locked with the ground, her feet sliding in the slushy snow. She begins to think of Christmas and the new friend she had met that day. By accident, as all her friends seem to be.

* * *

><p><em>'Are you nearly finished in there? Christ, you've never taken this long before.'<em>

_'Yeah, well, it's been you and me every other time. These are people I've never met before. I just…want to make sure…everything's good.' Rose calls to him from the bedroom. Charlie rolls his eyes._

_'I'm sure you look fine.'_

_'I just don't want people to talk.' Rose replies evenly and Charlie smiles._

_'People are already talking.' Charlie answers and there is a long drawn out pause. He can nearly see the stunned expression on her face. Well he's telling the truth. People talk about her all the time. They want to meet her. Not that he's said much about her to them, he's private like that, but they've seen her in the streets, wondering if that's the blonde from Staten Island. _

_'That's not very reassuring,' Rose's voice causes him to turn his gaze to where she's standing in the door. She smiles nervously at him. 'Is this okay? I mean, I don't want the attention. Be honest. If you think it isn't good, tell me so I can put on the black dress on.'_

_The dress she's chosen is a deep emerald colour, the fabric glitters in the light slightly but not in an ostentatious way. On the shoulders of the dress there are small triangular embellishments, somehow subtle and he watches her tug down the three quarter length sleeves before adjusting the hem of the dress. Even though it falls to her knees she doesn't seem happy with the length. _

_A few strands of loose hair fall around her face, the simple Gibson tuck hadn't managed to capture all of her hair and somehow it suits her face. When she turns back to the bedroom to grab her coat and purse he notices that the back of the dress is open. He assumes that's the part she's worried about. But the openness of the dress doesn't compromise the style, it's still classy. It reveals a little something but not enough. _

_'You look fine.' Charlie informs her when she comes back out of the bedroom, this time in those high heeled shoes she loves to wear. _

_'You're not just saying that, are you?' Rose wonders and turns slightly so she can see the back of the dress, however she's merely met with her bare back. She bites her lip and lifts her gaze to Charlie's. She opens her mouth to declare she's going for the black one instead, it's more conservative; she won't draw attention to herself. She forgets she's in 1930 and not the future. She'd have no problem rocking this dress if she had been in London, but now…she's second guessing herself. _

_'I'm not just saying that, you look fine,' Charlie reiterates and Rose presses her lips together as she slips on her black pea coat. He can see her mind working, she's thinking. He frowns as he approaches her; she's smoothing down her coat and swallows. 'What's bothering you? You're acting like you did the night we met up once again.'_

_Rose merely gives him a nervous smile; mostly because of the way he remembered her uneasiness. 'Yeah, I'm nervous. But…' She trails off and says no more._

_'It'll be fine. You worry too much.' Charlie decides and watches her shrug a bit but takes his hand in hers. He grabs his coat off of the couch and follows Rose out the door, carefully studying her. _

_If she's worried they'll talk about her and that she'll be the centre of attention, she's not wrong. They will, he knows them. And her outfit…yeah, he wants them to see how pretty she is. He likes showing her off._

_This is a welcome break from the stress that's been following him around the past year. With everyone under one roof, it'll give them a chance to talk about ways of ending the mindless bloodshed. But, then again, he already knows the way to end it, doesn't he? Question is how long will he have to wait and who will be on his side afterwards?_

* * *

><p><em>She appeared calm as they pulled up to 2230 Ocean Parkway in Brooklyn. She hadn't a clue as to whose house it was as it was modest compared to what Charlie enjoyed being in, not as grandiose as the others either. Then she noticed all the cars parked along the side of the road. She swallows. There's gonna be so many people here. The little voice of reason mocks her decision to continue this. Now she gets to meet every first generation mobster. How's she gonna cope with that? She shoves those feelings into a small part of her mind, no point in trying to argue it away; she's here now, better try to make the best of it.<em>

_Charlie keeps his eye on her as they head up the walkway towards the door, he can already hear the voices, loud trying to talk over one another. Rose falls behind as Charlie opens the door and she finds it odd that he didn't bother to knock. He must be good friends with the owner of the house. _

_The smells that come from the kitchen entice her; it smells wonderful and makes her hungry. In the lounge, she forgets what it's called over here, she can see the shadows on the wall that belong to the guests, and laughter fills the house. It's modestly decorated as well, nothing very flashy about it. The furniture is simple, colour scheme is neutral, if this is a home that belongs to an associate of Charlie's, she never would have guessed as most of them enjoy showing off their wealth. The owner of this one wants to blend in. _

_Charlie holds his hand out for her coat and Rose sheepishly shrugs it off, passing it to him as he opens the closet door on the left side of the foyer and hangs it up. Rose continues to look around the house a bit before realising that Charlie has left her and she widens her eyes to catch up. They're going right into the lounge. She swallows one last time and prepares herself. She's no idea what to expect._

_They're happy to see Charlie when he enters first, Rose hangs behind him a few steps until Charlie leads her to the front to stand beside him. Everyone had been silent while they gave her a good once over, and then a second one. Some even gave her a third. It had been the girlfriends of the men who had given her a scrutinising eye, not that there were many of them but Rose could they were silently judging her hair, clothing and the likes, what normal women do, she supposes. They don't reveal their thoughts on their faces but the men there welcome her with open arms, lying that this is the first time they've met her before, but when she is embraced by Vito she can tell that many of them have already caught glimpses of her just by the look in his eyes and the smirk. _

_She has been hanging back, in the corner of the lounge. The other women haven't said much to her, hard to imagine they've already formed a click and she doesn't mind Charlie off talking with those he knows. She's the new comer here. She shifts her weight from one side to the other and reaches for her drink that she's set down on the window ledge but notices it's empty, she frowns and looks around, Charlie had gotten her drink but she hadn't seen where he'd gotten it. She presses her lips together and scans the lounge._

_'Another drink?' _

_Rose blinks when a younger man holds out a crystal glass filled with amber liquid. Right names, okay, who's this again? She notices the man is missing his right index finger and thumb. Factory accident in the 19 teens, okay she knows him. Lucchese._

_'Thank you, Mr Lucchese.' Rose takes the glass and smiles at him._

_'Tommy, please,' He informs her and Rose nods her head and takes a quick sip. 'Enjoying yourself?'_

_'Very much so.' She answers and Tommy turns around to see the women looking at them. They're quiet for a moment before turning in to one another and begin whispering._

_'Overwhelming?'_

_'Very much so.' Rose repeats and Tommy laughs, she smiles into her glass._

_'You'll like Elsa, then. The shy quiet one on the couch over there? And probably Catherine, too.' Tommy motions to the kitchen and Rose follows his gaze. _

_'Really?' Rose stares at her glass and they are approached by another man, tall and imposing with dark eyes. She can tell he's quick to anger and appears to be impatient._

_'Rose.' The man nods at her and she gives him a small smile. _

_'Albert.'_

_'Tommy, quick discussion.' Albert motions to the outside to where the others are and he nods. Rose can only imagine what it could be. She finds it odd that they're still willing to talk about business now, of all days._

_'Rose, nice meeting you again.'_

_'You too, Tommy. Albert.' Rose smiles at him and he merely gives her a small nod. She notices they left empty glasses next to hers and she decides to take them into the kitchen out of the way. Maybe she could be of some use in there._

_The kitchen is a little tight, but efficient. There are different sections that have plates, cutlery and napkins. A slender woman with dark hair in a dress of crepe colour with silver sequins sewn throughout the design catches Rose's attention. When she turns to see her standing there, Rose can see the dress has a low neckline with a straight-topped bodice and inch thick straps. The waistline accentuates just how slender she is however she frowns slightly from her spot by the stove, stirring something in a pot. Rose can see the confusion in her eyes and so she holds up the glasses she's holding as a means to start conversation._

_'Oh, thank you. You can leave them there,' She points to a spot by the sink where other dishes have been stacked. Rose smiles at her and heads over. Wanting to help she begins to fill the sink with water. It grabs the woman's attention again and she _

_frowns. 'That really isn't necessary. Please, go on out there and enjoy yourself.'_

_Rose shakes her head. 'I hope you don't mind if I stay here, help out maybe. I don't know anyone well enough.' She admits taking off her watch and bracelet. She takes the cloth and submerges it into the hot water. She feels the woman's light brown eyes on her._

_'Oh, you must be Charlie's girl. It's nice to meet you, I'm Catherine. But everyone calls me Cat, except my husband.' She smiles at Rose before glancing back to the stove._

_'I'm Rose, thank you for having me here, Cat.'_

_They continue their tasks in silence. Not awkward or heavy just a thoughtful quietness. Cat lightly taps the spoon on the rim of the pot and Rose neatly stacks the glasses by the side of the sink, to dry later. Cat looks over to Rose once again as she silently continues to clean the glasses and then start on the small pile of dishes she's started since cooking._

_The emerald coloured dress Rose is in is rather…interesting. The hemline is incredibly short, falling to just her knees while her own dress reaches the floor. Then again if she had nice legs as Rose does, maybe she'd want to show them off too. The dress itself looks comfortable, the back is open but that isn't anything new, some of the new fashion pieces she's read in the magazines and seen in the shop windows show long dresses with an open back. She'll stick to hiding hers thank you very much. But it's the shoes she's wearing that really catch Cat's attention. The heel of the shoe is so incredibly thin and high and elevated, not the stubby fat heels she's been used to wearing. And the soles of the shoes are red where the rest of the shoe is black. How in the world does she walk around in those things? Those aren't shoes, those are…something entirely different. They look torturous. Still, Rose seems nice. Cat decides to attempt conversation again._

_'Thank you for the help. It's the first time one of…my husband's friend's girls has offered to help out. It's refreshing.' Cat opens up a cupboard and takes something out of it._

_Rose turns over her shoulder. 'I can't imagine doing this entire dinner for how many…?'_

_'Twenty five.'_

_'Twenty five?!' Rose repeats stunned and wonders where they're all hiding, she hasn't met everyone apparently. 'Yeah, I can't imagine why they didn't offer to help. I feel terrible I hadn't offered sooner.'_

_Cat smiles and leans against the counter. 'Most of the other girls are too good to concern themselves with domestic tasks once they latch on to these kind of men.'_

_'Clearly.'_

_'Well, Elsa isn't like them, she is just too nice to excuse herself from their company when they get a hold of her,' Cat explains and Rose nods her head, trying to remember which one of them had been Elsa. 'Plus, having just come from Canada, I think she's just trying to make as many friends as she can.'_

_'How long has she been in New York?' Rose wonders and submerges another pot._

_'About four months. She met Albert after about a month or so, they've been inseparable ever since,' Cat informs her and Rose absently nods, focusing on scrubbing the pot clean. 'You know, you're different from the other girls Charlie's brought around, first girl that actually has a brain in her. I like it. You should have seen the last one. At my wedding, what an embarrassment.'_

_Rose turns over to Cat stunned by her omission. She had given Rose the impression, in the ten seconds they both used to judge one another, that she is quiet and demure. But she is opinionated. Rose instantly takes a liking to her. And then Cat's comment beings to sink in that much further. _

_'Really? How awful for you, on _your_ day no less.'_

_Cat starts to laugh. 'She got really, really drunk at the wedding. I've never seen Charlie that ticked off before, she certainly made it memorable. He started bringing her around less and less to functions after that.'_

_'Was it the woman who looked like Louise Brookes?' Rose questions and Cat's hand flies to her mouth in shock, her brown eyes wide. However it isn't long before Rose sees the corners of her mouth turn up in a smile._

_'Yes! Why, did you know her?'_

_'No, but I saw her one night in the bar at the Chelsea, that's where I'm staying. That's where Charlie and I sort of…reconnected. She had been drunk that night, too. And then, not that long ago, while we were out to dinner, I crossed paths with her again. Except this time she threw wine in my face and started an argument with Charlie.' Rose explains and her mind wanders back to that night. There is so much she wished she could have said to that woman but held back because she didn't want to make more of a scene. She really wanted to._

_Again Cat's eyes go wide. 'In front of the whole restaurant?!'_

_'Yeah…'_

_'My goodness, how awful.' Cat turns around and stirs the contents of the pot once again. She watches Rose begin to towel dry the contents that she's just washed. _

_'Well, yeah, I guess. Never had that happen to me before.' Rose admits and rubs the back of her head with embarrassment. Cat doesn't miss the slight tinge of red to her cheeks._

_Cat opens up a cupboard and takes out some spices. 'Sometimes people just don't want to admit things are over and that they have to move on. It scares them.'_

_Rose heads over to Cat, drying her hands on the small towel and smiles a bit. 'Very insightful.' Cat watches Rose walk in the shoes with sticks on them, she makes it look so easy._

_Cat merely returns the smile, placing her hand on her hip. 'I may have only ever been with one man but that doesn't mean I don't have my own opinions based on what I've seen.' _

_'How long have you been married?' Rose wonders and leans against the counter sliding on her watch back on. _

_'Four years already.' Cat smiles and Rose crinkles her nose as she returns it. She wonders who her husband is, unsure if she's been introduced to him. She honestly doesn't remember everyone's name, not on purpose but the introductions had been whirlwind._

_The conversation has lulled, and not wanting the silence to fall into an awkward stage since they are both warming up to one another, Rose stares at the stack of fine white china on the end of the counter. She points to them. 'Those going out to the dining room?'_

_'Oh, they are. Thank you.' Cat smiles and motions to the pot on the stove. Rose merely nods her head. Burning something tonight wouldn't be good. Nothing good would come of it except maybe a good story to tell later on._

_As Rose moves around the large wooden rectangle table, several leafs have had to be put in, she can see in her peripheral vision the other women gathered around a shy girl, that must be Elsa. However when they hear her setting the china down, the glance to her direction, Rose keeps a steely façade. How like women to gossip and judge her on everything but her personality and brain. Even though she attempts to ignore them, she is still human and their whispers make her self-conscious and second-guess her confidence. Maybe she ought to have put on the black dress; less showy than the one she's wearing now. She hates being the centre of attention but she hears a voice in her mind start to laugh. Doesn't like being the centre of attention? You're in 1930 and still dress like you're in the future. Give your head a shake, girl._

_She has to go back into the kitchen for the next stack, when she does finish the task she's glad for it. Until she remembers the cutlery and closes her eyes in defeat. She endures longer stares, points this time and an apologetic look from Elsa. Thank god she's sane enough._

_She's never been gladder to finish a task before, usually she's always watched as she does certain things, depending on the job, but this time…no…especially since you knew they were judging you. She takes refuge in the kitchen._

_Cat is with another man, dark hair, a little taller than she is. The dark coloured suit he has on offsets Cat's crepe coloured one, making her stand out more. He has his arm around her shoulders, rubbing her left arm tenderly before he draws her closer. Not wanting to intrude any longer, she begins to back away, having just entered the dining room once more before someone else places their hands on her shoulders and she freezes._

_'I've been looking for you everywhere.'_

_Rose is relieved to hear Charlie's voice and instantly relaxes. 'Have you? I've been in the kitchen. Helping. Sorta.' She adds and turns to face him. She catches the confused look on his face._

_'Why?'_

_'Have you ever cooked dinner for twenty five people?' Rose wonders and he remains silent, giving her his answer. She gives him a quick kiss. 'Neither have I but it's hard work, so any little bit helps.'_

_'I'm sure Cat appreciates it,' Charlie replies and Rose shrugs absently, she finds it strange that only Cat's husband calls her by her full name. Charlie doesn't miss the whispers of the other girls in the living room and frowns. 'You haven't made friends yet?' He teases and Rose throws him an unimpressed look._

_'I don't think I'd fit in there. I don't know how to pretend I care. I always care.'_

_'Good point.' Charlie glances over to where the other girls are absorbed in conversation. One points to her shoes. Elsa looks entirely bored but unwilling to say anything that may go against the topic of conversation. Her face goes red and looks to her own dress as the rest of them erupt into laughter._

_He turns over to Albert when his name is called and then back to Rose. She smiles at him. 'Go on, I'll be fine.' She inwardly smiles when he tilts her chin up to kiss him before he's disappeared into the living room._

_Rose leans against the closest chair, going over her time here so far. She is shaken from her thoughts when she hears the sound of china and glassware clinking so she decides to go in and help Cat once again._

_However once she's brought herself out of her dazed, she notices the man that had been beside Cat. Rose blinks and smiles._

_'Hello.' He greets and Rose offers her hand immediately. No one can stay she's been standoffish or rude._

_'Hi, I'm Rose. I don't think we've met yet. My apologies if we have.' She grips the man's hand tightly in her own and he gives her a quiet observation. He's nearly impossible to read, he exudes a gentle exterior but the eyes don't match his face. His eyes are cold, calculating._

_'Carlo, pleasure to meet you Rose.'_

_'Carlo…' Rose repeats and inhales sharply when she is able to put a face to infamous last name, she masks it with another smile. 'Thank you for having me.'_

_'I'm glad you could make it, we've been looking forward to meeting you properly.' Carlo replies and Rose doesn't need to inquire as to the 'we' in that sentence. She knows who Carlo is referring to. Everyone._

_'Well, hopefully no one's disappointed.' Rose quips accidently and Carlo laughs a bit. She attempts to remain calm. Whoops, she's gotta work on the snarkiness. Sassing off to Carlo is one thing, but not to Masseria. Actually no, smarting off to Carlo Gambino isn't a good idea either. Thankfully, and hopefully, he got that she had merely been kidding around. _

_'Not that I've heard, you've been quite the hit here.' Carlo remarks and Rose's gaze drops to her feet, she feels her cheeks flush, she can't help it. _

_'Not on purpose, I hope. Didn't ask for it.' She adds the last part quietly hoping Carlo hasn't heard her. But he has and he smiles slightly, glancing over to the lounge where the others are. When Rose looks over as well and then turns back she blinks as Carlo has his eyes on her again. _

_He places his hand on the side of her arm and gives her a small nod. 'No, I know. When you're with someone in this life, you often get dragged along. Pretending you don't know what's going on when you know very well. You're bearing it well, given the situation that's raging on…' He pauses and Rose smiles. 'You'll be safe. I know it seems ironic but you will be. You have a lot of people that will look out for you if ever Charlie can't.'_

_'Like a family…' Rose breathes and it makes Carlo smile. He has such a sweet disposition. He keeps that iron fist so carefully hidden. But she knows that the dark side is always there. For them, it's always just below the surface. Unless of course you're Albert. Then it's a guessing game._

_'I suppose. Just like that.' He squeezes her arm and disappears into the lounge. Rose watches for a moment before she comes back to reality and quietly slips into the kitchen. Confused about how she's supposed to feel a moment like this._


	13. Chapter 13: 1931

The sound of a car horn shakes Rose from her thoughts and it's sound shakes her from her thoughts. She glances at the street signs the next intersection and realises she's almost at the Waldorf Towers. That night had been…that night had been different for her. When she and Charlie had sat down together she remembered feeling as though she was sitting down with friends she'd cultivated over the course of many years. Her first Christmas alone. At least that's what she had expected that year, anyway. None of her family to be around, no John…she just fully anticipated that she was to celebrate alone.

Maybe that's why she had planned on travelling. She knew Jack would ring her and tell her to join them, whoever them was, she had a notion, though. She had thought herself horrible for wanting to distance herself. She had wanted to just be alone. And then Charlie had wanted her to come and she hadn't really been sure why she'd said yes. Maybe it had been because she was under the impression it'd be the two of them. And when he had said to her that they've been invited to Carlo and Catherine's for dinner she had wanted to turn tail and run. She remembered thinking of excuses while she'd been chasing people who'd done bad things. She'd been distracted in her job while pondering her life. All those people to meet had terrified her. What would they think? She couldn't pretend to be anyone other than herself and while Charlie loved that, would they?

Rose keeps her smile faint. They had. She remembered dinner that night. Watching all twenty-five of them somewhat crammed into a tiny dinning room as she and Cat moved around seamlessly moving around one another as they brought the dishes out to the table. Those that had come late snuck into seats, she had taken hers beside Charlie, she and Catherine across from one another. The glances they had snuck from one another at the boisterous sounds coming from the table. Joe had been constantly checking his appearance, much to the enjoyment and snickers of his wife and her friends. Albert nudging him to pay attention. She had commented to Charlie, drawing him close to inform him that she had never seen anyone so vain before, she had kept her voice low. Charlie had laughed and glanced over his shoulder to see it for himself. When he had turned back around he had simply informed her that wasn't about to change. She had arched her eyebrow with a smirk merely saying that he was more concerned with his appearance than a woman was. And she always loved that crooked smirk of his. So he called to Joe who was seated at the opposite end of the table.

_'Who do you think you are, Rudolph Valentino?'_

The table had gone quiet and she had covered her mouth to hide her smirk and hold back her laughter. She heard Cat snicker and cover it up by taking a deep drink from her wine glass. The rest of them had waited for Joe's response. Rose had nudged him. That observation was supposed to stay between them. She had leaned forward when Joe had opened his mouth for his rebuttal. It had taken him long enough.

_'For looks, that guy's a bum.'_

The table had erupted into laughter. She had wondered why she had ever been nervous or terrified to come. Even now when she thinks back to that exchange it always puts a smile on her face. That sense of having a family dynamic a unit that had been absent in her life for so long made her feel comfortable. She didn't realised she missed it until she had in her life. She loved being at the table that night, trading barbs with Albert, talking with Cat about, well, everything. If fact she had gotten talked in to coming over for lunch, just the two of them. She had enjoyed that afternoon too.

She had a really good time. It had just solidified for her that she didn't have anything to be worried about. These people that had been sitting around her then, treating her as though they've known her forever even though she'd just met them. These people didn't count family as just being about blood. Friends can be family. That's what she had been missing in this first year alone. She had missed the connection only brought on by being around a group like this. They argued, loudly at that, they had laughed…it had been a time she wouldn't soon forget.

A hard knock into her shoulder caused Rose to look up and frown. Her mouth opens ready to fling a word of warning or insult when she finds the words stuck in her throat. The man continues on, as does she, but he turns around nearly fully to stare at her. She does the same. He is older, dressed sharply. The wool coat looks expensive. He gives her a hard look before he seems to realise who she is and gives her a smile. Rose hasn't the faintest idea who he is, she's positive she's never met him but his look unsettles her. And then he smiles wider at her. Like he knows a secret he won't share with her. She frowns at him but continues walking; she can feel his eyes on her even after the crowds have absorbed him. Who in the hell could that have been? She actually feels relieved when she sees the Waldorf Towers, the cold wind having chilled her to the bone, the heat will be welcome. Until she hears the crunching snow behind her. Is she being followed?

She really isn't in the mood for confrontation and she wonders if it's that man again. However she doesn't have time to think of a plan before she's stopped and the unknown behind her places their hand on her shoulder. Rose spins around fully expecting the strange man from earlier to be there but is relieved to see Joey there instead. She sighs in relief.

'Joey, god, you scared me.'

Joey pushes his hat up and out of his face. 'Sorry, Rose,' He is quick to embrace her, other people would know it as a sign of apology, but she knows it's always just to get close to her. Still she embraces him back, glad it's not the strange man from earlier. 'You heading to the Waldorf?'

'I am, why?' Rose questions and Joey starts walking. She trots to catch up to him. 'Joey, what's wrong?'

Joey stops for a moment and looks back to Rose. She staring at him with confusion in her eyes and he wonders if he ought to tell her anything at all. She doesn't need to know about this stuff, she may be tough but she's still just a dame, she doesn't need her getting all emotional on him.

'Charlie isn't there, I just tried. You know where he is?' Joey wonders and shields himself against the wind, turning his back to it as he ignites a cigarette. He turns back to Rose and exhales slowly.

'What? No, I just spoke with him.'

'How long ago, exactly?' Joey questions and Rose folds her arms as she tries to think of it. She had been with Jack when she had gotten the call. She had excused herself and took it. What had he said? No, she is positive the Waldorf had been their meeting point.

'Uh, three or four hours ago.' She admits and realises that it is a long stretch between then and now. Something could have changed. But he would have gotten in touch with her, wouldn't he? Or maybe he didn't have time.

'Long time for things to change.' Joey remarks and Rose shivers in her jacket.

'Is something wrong?' Rose questions and is unable to keep the tone even, her voice wavers slightly.

'No, not yet. I just need to relay a message to him.' Joey answers and they resume walking towards the Waldorf. He draws her closer to keep the chill out of her. He can feel how cold she is.

'Do you want me to?' She offers and she can see Joey hesitate. Does he reveal the potentially bad news or keep it to himself. Does he want to involve her or not? She can see the debate going on in his head. The frowning, weighing the options until he seems to relent. Just as they reach the Waldorf.

'Yeah, I guess. Just tell him he needs to get ahold of me. It's about…just tell him that it's been found out.' Joey pauses at the bottom steps while Rose ascends them. She frowns when she notices that he doesn't and turns to face him.

'Tell him what's been found out?' Rose questions and Joey looks to the Waldorf before looking over his shoulder to the streets. When he turns back to her, his look is unreadable.

'He'll know exactly what that means when you tell him.' Joey merely answers and Rose nods her head bleakly. Joey is quick to embrace her.

'Don't worry, doll, we'll get this figured out,' He promises her and Rose doesn't miss the hard outline of a gun stashed inside his coat. He places a quick kiss on her cheek. 'Get on inside, before you freeze.'

Rose nods and heads up the stairs, she's nearly inside when she wants to inquire about something else, however as she turns around to call to Joey, she notices that he's already put quite the distance between them, a cloud of smoke trailing behind him.

* * *

><p>She had caught an internal chill and nothing she had been doing was getting rid of it. And still Charlie hadn't shown up. That had been nearly an hour ago. She had waited around, drinking tea hoping to warm herself up for nearly twenty minutes and nothing. So she had decided to draw a bath and now as she sits in it, she notices the water isn't as warm as it had been at first, she must be getting accustomed to it. She hears the door open and shut. She is quiet. Just in case it could be someone that had gained access, either the police or an enemy. Rose is quiet and holds her breath.<p>

'Rose? Are you here?' Charlie calls out and Rose closes her eyes in relief.

'I'm here,' She calls and begins to search over the lip of the tub for a towel, the door opens and she glances up with a small smile. 'Hi.'

'Hi. I'm sorry I'm late,' Charlie loosens his tie and Rose flips over and rests her arms on the lip of the tub. She notices how tired he looks and that his voice had a bit of an impatient sigh to it. She tilts her head. 'Did you get cold walking here?'

Rose smiles as he leans down to give her a kiss. 'I did.'

'Did you forget about the fireplace?' Charlie muses and turns over to it briefly, with a small smirk as he hears the water become disturbed and she turning around looking for a towel.

'Yeah, but then again I've never had much luck starting a fire and getting it to stay lit.' Rose comments and accepts the towel Charlie hands her from the counter. She quickly bundles herself into it.

'It isn't that hard.' Charlie remarks and Rose steps out of the tub and gives him an unimpressed look as she pulls the plug. She walks past him into the bedroom and he follows her. She looks around for her blush coloured makeup bag. She doesn't see it but Charlie wrapping his arms around her from behind quickly pushes the thought of it away.

'I have a message for you…' Rose doesn't know any other way to broach the subject so she announces it directly to him. She holds her breath as he turns her around and searches her for answers, subtle ones. She's good at keeping her emotions hidden some times. When she needs to.

'Do you? From who?'

'Joey. He was here looking for you before I got here. We met in the streets.' Rose explains and watches Charlie's face knit into one of confusion. That can't be good. Clearly this is something he hadn't been expecting. It only makes her worry more.

'What did he want?'

'He said that it's been found out. I didn't get names or-…' Rose is cut off by Charlie as he pulls her closer to him by the shoulders, places a quick kiss on her lips and quickly heads to the phone that's out in the other room. Rose stands there dazed.

When she collects her senses she realises that Charlie is rapidly talking to someone on the other line. She spies her makeup bag peeking out from inside her travel bag and she reaches down to fetch it, returning to the bathroom to finish dressing. She frowns when she hears the door open and close in a flourish. She peers out into the empty bedroom and then takes a few careful steps out and into the lounge. Charlie isn't there. Neither is his coat or hat. She looks around rather surprised, that she hadn't been expecting. Whatever Joey had found out, either by accident or on purpose was bad. It obviously is grave enough to have Charlie go back out and face the chilling weather and blustery winds. She ignores the concern growing within her. He'll be fine. She knows he will be so she ought to quit worrying.

When she emerges from the bathroom, she eyes her mobile that hiding in the nightstand drawer. She had been hoping to spend time with him now she's got the need to talk with no outlet. So she sits on the bed and stares harder at the drawer, biting her lip she opens it and picks it up. She hits redial on the number she just called most recently and places the phone by her ear, sitting back against the pillows she waits for him to pick up. Thankfully he does.

And she spent the next few hours conversing with him. She of course didn't tell him where she was, well she did, New York, she just didn't say when. Such a time traveller thing to do. He reminded her about their meeting with Kate to go over the specs for another mission, sadly for Jack, he had impressed Kate so much with his knowledge and help on finding Pollock that Kate seemed to be calling on his help more and more. She knew Jack didn't like having to make frequent trips from Cardiff to London so they tried to get all meetings about all subjects done a few times a month.

And then she remembered that Mikhail would be in Paris and she had agreed to meet him for lunch. When Jack had mentioned needing to take a vacation to the French countryside it had reminded her of her engagement. And then of Versailles. Rick has wanted to get her help on a matter as well and Olena wanted her to come back to Moscow for a few weeks vacation, too. It's starting to stress her out the different directions she's being pulled in.

The hour has slipped away from her and by the time she had hung up with Jack it was after three in the morning. She read for a half hour longer, hoping that Charlie would come in…but nothing and by four she decided to finally call it a night.

She is surprised when she wakes up and sits up still groggy. The curtains haven't been drawn and sunlight streams into the room unfiltered. She closes her eyes and falls back against the pillow, throwing her arm across her face. She draws the covers closer to her and then turns to face the opposite side of the bed and she is rather surprised to see another occupant in the bed with her. She smiles a bit and reaches for her mobile on the night table and presses the button. It's eleven here. Thankfully for her, there is a message from Mikhail saying he needs to reschedule. That's good. Very lucky, actually. So just dinner with Rick, then. She'll message Olena on her way there too so she can set something up with her. If she can't make it to Moscow, maybe she can convince Olena to visit London for a while.

She wants to sleep but finds herself unable to. She sits up again and yawns. Well there's usually one thing that helps her wake up and get some energy. She grumbles as she slides from the bed but then hesitates. She turns back over and smiles a bit as she leans across the bed and places a small kiss on the back of Charlie's head. She has no idea when he came in but it couldn't haven been that long ago. He doesn't even move.

She dresses quietly, gathering a small bag of things she'll need. The abandoned warehouse she had stumbled upon in Hell's Kitchen had been a godsend. She's been able to do a lot of training with Ivan. Hopefully it continues to stay that way. Realising she's forgotten her mobile on the night table, she quietly walks back into the bedroom. She picks it up and begins to head out again when she freezes in her step.

'Are you off again?' He has a sigh in his voice, as though he's unsure why he's even awake given how tired he is. And how _can_ he be awake given that fact.

'I am. Hopefully back some time this evening.'

'I'm sorry I left so abruptly last night.' Charlie sits up and faces her. Rose gives him a small smile and walks to his side of the bed, sitting on the edge. He looks every bit exhausted still, she feels terrible he's had to be awake for so long.

'Don't worry about it, you can tell me all about it tonight.' Rose places her hand on his cheek. He moves his hand to the back of her head to draw her closer. She gives him a small kiss before he releases her.

'Will you do me a favour?' Charlie wonders as she gets to her feet and Rose smiles crookedly at him, walking towards the curtains and drawing them shut. 'Thank you.'

'I'll see you tonight.' Rose calls from the doorway but receives no reply. She merely shakes her head and walks towards the front door, collecting her bag and shutting the door with a soft click. Whatever had happened last night, wherever he had gone, she knows it was about his future. And his place in the underworld. He's getting closer to claiming his spot. Only two obstacles remain in his path.

* * *

><p>The news had been grave. At least, that's what she had deducted when she returned from gallivanting around Earth in the afternoon and met up with Charlie. She's been having problems landing correctly in 1931 for some strange reason. She can't pinpoint the time precisely like she can when she travels to the future. Instead of trying to be back for around eight in the evening. She had been back around half past nine. It had worked out, though, because as she had been walking up the Chelsea's front steps, she heard her name being called and she turned around to see Charlie heading towards her. He apologised for that morning and she uttered her apologies for being late. Of which he had wanted to express also. Things have been keeping them apart. He didn't like that.<p>

As she pulls her mouth from his, thinking back to the stress he seemed to exude during dinner she figured now would be an appropriate time to ask. She lazily slides off of him and settles herself by his side. He draws her closer and she does her best to get comfortable, but the closeness between them makes her hotter than she had been previously, she pushes her discomfort aside.

'Now, what has you so stressed?' Rose wonders and watches Charlie frown slightly, and he keeps his gaze fixated on the wall in front of them. He doesn't turn to her.

'What makes you think I'm stressed?'

Rose's look becomes flat. He studies her with a slightly bemused expression, it's hard to take her seriously when her once rouged lips have become smudged and less than perfect. Her look tells him that he's being facetious. 'Really?'

He doesn't reply right away. Yeah, to say he's stressed is a bit of an understatement. Not even sleeping with her had taken the edge off, and usually it does. Hell, she's good enough to take his mind off anything. But this is more serious than before. She had warned him that playing with fire was dangerous and if he wasn't careful he'd get burned. He thought he'd been careful enough. But he hadn't been. Someone saw and told. But he knew his own rats both in Masseria's factions and Maranzano's. So how did Masseria find out? He didn't seem…smart enough to figure it out on his own; he doesn't have the managerial skills to do so. That's why he's in charge of the street gangs. The only thing Masseria is good for is cutting an imposing figure. Not much else. The uncouth manners and behaviours are alienating him from the others. Maybe that's what led him to figure it out. The others prefer his company and dealings over Massiera, it could be jealousy that led him to believe he's attempt to usurp his position. Well, that's true. It's obvious. He's rising ranks and Masseria's floundering. And Masseria isn't willing to end this petty feud. The body count is rising, it's drawing the attention of the cops, and they don't need it. And the secret negotiations between himself and Maranzano have paid off, he'll get control of Masseria's gangs and the stupid feud will end. There'll be some semblance of peace. Much needed peace.

'Yes, I am and even you aren't able to take my mind off of things.' Charlie replies and grips her tightly to him. Rose widens her eyes from the surprise.

'You shouldn't take work home with you.' She teases and Charlie's smirk becomes crooked.

'And yet I do. That isn't likely to change,' He counters and glances to the wall once again. 'He knows.' He finally says.

Rose frowns. 'He knows…knows what? Oh…oh no,' He's discovered the negotiations. Charlie's been burned by the fire. She swallows an awkward lump. 'What are you going to do?'

Again he's quiet. Rose finds herself holding her breath. 'I'm going to tell him he's crazy. I'll try to quell the suspicion, at least until the time's right.' He answers simply and Rose finds herself staring at him with a stunned expression.

'And what if he doesn't believe you? He could kill you!'

'I'm sure the hit has already gone out. I'll just have to see who picks it up first,' Charlie replies calmly and Rose is unable to form any words. Charlie notices her inability to response and he places his hand on her still flushed cheek. 'When the underworld sees who the hit is on they will more than likely reconsider. They know who I am and they don't want to risk my retaliation when their attempt fails.'

Rose isn't reassured. If she goes back to London and looks at this as someone from the future reading about the past it's different than what she's going through right now. The irrational fear of masked gunmen bursting into her suite, or his, and unleashing round after round makes her immensely uncomfortable. The rational side of her mind tells her to get logical and to stop looking at this as someone who doesn't know the outcome when she does. Perks of being a time traveller. But the fearful side looks at this situation, this war he's caught in the middle of, as his concerned lover. Letting him go off into the streets…she does worry for his safety. She knows he's armed, she's seen the gun, but she isn't very reassured. And she isn't sure why. Maybe it's because her mind is starting to get comfortable here. She's getting used to life in the 30s, walking the incredibly blurred line between the underworld and normalcy.

When she walks the streets with Charlie she can see the respect people give him, how small kids are getting the impression that in order to be successful in life you have to become a wise guy. They'll grapple with being told it's wrong to cheat but they know there's no other way to get their life on the easy path. And with the eventual five boroughs becoming split between five families, there's a hell of a choice to make. She can understand the appeal. They're in a depression, they see their families struggling to make ends meat. Money is tight, families are controlling of their kids, if all they have to do to get away from this is be a little violent and beat someone up to get noticed…Rose can see why they'd want to. Respect and money. Who can say no? But it isn't a life to live. What happens if another war breaks out? Look at the Colombo family decades from now. It always leads to infighting. And power is always fleeting.

* * *

><p>February ended dramatically. Weather wise. The blustering winds that had plagued the residents of the City since February began abruptly ended when the month melted into March. She was used to the blustery days back home, but that wind was bitingly cold. She was glad when March arrived.<p>

What had been even more relieving was that Charlie had come back nearly every night, she says nearly because there had been nights that she hadn't been there, but she assumes yes, the only night he came back bloodied had been because…well he hadn't actually said, but given the only wounds had been on his right hand, specifically his knuckles, she could guess.

She had instructed him to sit and he glared at her as he did. As she had cleaned it for him, he biting back curses at the sting of the disinfectant, she told him to talk. To take his mind off of things while she carefully dabbed at his knuckles.

He told her, with confidence no less, that he had been able to convince Masseria that whoever told him that he had been planning on killing him was, to put it bluntly, a fucking idiot. Why would he be looking to rub out the man who had graciously, Charlie had said that with disgust in his voice, allowed him to rise ranks.

She had watched him carefully as he spoke, gently dabbing the split skin on his hand. There was more, though, she could tell. He became pensive. And she had waited. He'd talk. She didn't wait long.

Masseria had been hard to convince, though. He brought up the fact that he'd left to work for Rothstein and the only reason he came back was because Rothstein was dead. Rose could only imagine how hard it must have been for Charlie to stay quiet on that subject. Especially since he owed Arnold so much for getting him started in his criminal career, namely moving around the high society types. Not easy to do at first if you're just coming in off the streets. And of course, saving his criminal reputation after the botched drug deal way back in the 20s.

She had commented she hoped he hadn't responded with anything controversial. Charlie had laughed a bit. No, the simple comment of agreeing that he had left but returned because he had wanted to pledge fealty to the most powerful criminal in New York City had sufficed. Rose gave him a crooked grin. So all he had to do was stroke an ego. Why didn't that surprise her?

And things had still been quite by March. They spent a lot more time together but she couldn't pretend to ignore the fact that he'd often be in the company of others wherever they met up. They normally were not accompanied by the others. They'd separate and she and Charlie would continue on out. Other times, which she didn't know, they'd tag along. And judging by the impatient looks Charlie would give them. He didn't know they would be.

Even the night he had taken her out for her birthday they had been enjoying a quiet, intimate dinner when they the had been approached by Albert, there on an unrelated matter, he had insisted but of course since he was there, he wanted to talk. She had held her sigh in until Albert all but dragged Charlie outside. Which meant that she was left with making small talk with Elsa. She had appeared to be reluctant at first, she had given off the air that she isn't sure if she should have been speaking with Rose, she hadn't been given permission. Rose hadn't let that bother her; she just kept right on trying. Besides, Elsa had been there for Christmas not that long ago when she and Albert had traded barbs. However Rose decided it wasn't a good idea that she mention the smile she'd seen on Elsa lips.

That encounter had been fun, but other than that, she hadn't met many other people Charlie knew. Except Masseria. One time she had been on her way back in, she had to hurry to cover the wound she had received from Pollock when she had visited him at UNIT because she needed to meet with Charlie. She had walked right by him, skulking out her hotel. He had even let her get right inside and up to her floor when he decided that was the best time to call her name.

She hadn't turned around right away. She had kept her back to him as she tried to ascertain to whom the voice belonged. It was only as she turned around slowly, unnerved by the fact that he had tailed her that far. Then again she was mad at herself for not paying attention. She'd have to be blind to miss him.

Even recalling that encounter now makes her shiver with uneasiness. Though he had been polite enough that time around, not like their first meeting, kissed her hand while she had remained steely to him, there was just something about him that caused her to be guarded and closed around him. Perhaps it was the feeling that should she turn her back to him he'd stab her in it and leave her for dead. It was very unsettling.

It also caused her to become guarded of Charlie as well. He asked if she'd been with him today and when she had replied she hadn't, he wanted to know when. She had kept her voice flat and replied that whenever he wanted to see her, he would. Same with anyone else. Ah, the snarky attitude never failed to show itself. And as she had expected, he laughed at her. She should have known that she had to be careful what she said around Masseria, god knows what he could do or have done to Charlie if he didn't like what she had to say.

That had also been when he started calling her the inglese bellezza. She hadn't liked it and made Charlie tell him to stop. He swore up and down that he had spoken with him however the next time they had met, also conveniently at the Chelsea; Masseria had called her that again. It infuriated her and Charlie had had to steer her into the hotel lobby to keep her from saying something she shouldn't have. It had been then she realised that Masseria was doing that get a rise out of her, testing her. Well she isn't demure and she would have told him off if Charlie hadn't been there to keep the peace. She had warned him again to talk to Masseria about that. He could even call her Rosa if he wanted but no more of that other crap. She had believed Charlie when he said he'd try his best to talk sense into Masseria and as he had pulled her closer by her shoulders to kiss her deeply he muttered that Masseria would be around long enough anyway. That comment left her surprised. She didn't know when that'd happen. Oh but then again she does, doesn't she? She just didn't have the time to look it up. She's been interstellar so often lately that she actually decided she needed a vacation. And stopping in New York to spend time with Charlie simply wasn't cutting it anymore. It was relaxing and she always craved it but it was starting to become a headache too. Especially when she was having run-ins with his associates, or boss because then she'd always think of Charlie's safety. She nearly begged him to go somewhere with her for a weekend, just to get out of the city. He had answered simply that he couldn't afford to right now, things were too up in the air. She hadn't liked that answer from him but he swore that when the dust settled they would go somewhere. Just the two of them, no distractions. He promised he'd leave the city behind if she left her job behind too, she had hastily agreed.

But things didn't settle down in the coming weeks. And since he had given her no indication that things were slowing down with him, she kept on working as well. One of her travels included stopping by the Proclamation once again. The Judoon had missed her; at least that's what she told herself. It more or less had to do with a contact she had made while working there. Apparently she had needed her help and the last place this woman knew she had been was the Proclamation. Imagine her surprise when she had arrived and no Marion. Even her own shock when the Judoon had contacted her, she'd been with Charlie at the Chelsea. After the conversation concluded she had hung back, standing there limply. That phone call brought back some old memories. And she didn't want to go back there. Charlie had called her back to the bed and inquired what had her so upset. She laughed. But it was a laugh of impatience and disbelief. Her old job wanted her to stop by for a visit. And why didn't she want to go? Well, she just didn't. That part of her life had been put behind her. She wanted nothing to do with it. Simple answer, don't go Charlie said. She laughed and had kissed him. If only things could have been that simple. He had scoffed and rolled his eyes, he understood that sentiment well. Despite who she was with, sleep hadn't come easily to her.

Nothing had changed when she arrived. Except of course the Architect. One of the chattier Judoons, if you could even say that, merely told her there had been a steady stream of those who gladly took on the role, only to crumble to stress a few months later. She had been the only one who had lasted as long as she did. Well, score one for Sol 3.

They had said it was only going to be a one-time visit. They simply needed her help in establishing contact with the woman and then they could take that task from there. She believed them. She felt stupid when it turned into a planetary wide search. That had taken weeks. She had been elusive. And here Rose thought she was. She had to be. But that woman had made her look like an amateur. They would get close but then lose her and Rose could never understand why. Until she realised that it had been the company she was bring around with her. So after the next attempt had gone down, she told them to stay behind. And then she made contact. The woman had reluctantly come forward. With pertinent information. About the current Architect and a scandal that would break out should she go forward with the information. The woman was a species of alien Rose had never met before. She looked entirely human except for the lavender coloured skin and white hair. And amethyst coloured eyes that pulled one right into her stare. Amalfora was her name. She went by Amal for short. Rose had been pleased to her know her full name. Anytime they spoke, usually through passed messages stuck in one of the stone walls in the west part of the city when she'd been at the Proclamation and she only ever signed the letters as, _your trusted eyes_.

The information that Amal had given her had been astonishing. She had reason to believe that the current Architect had some kind of connection to the events that had taken place on Manitou. Word had gone out that the former Architect, Marion, had gone hunting for those responsible and Amal had run into people that at one point where connected with the company responsible for the biological testing done on Manitou. And better according to Amal was the Onta in her care would be able to identify the Architect.

Rose had felt terrible, she hadn't even bothered to ask the new Architect's name when the Judoon had introduced them but after Amal's revelation, she hadn't felt terrible at all. When she had inquired as to why Amal waited so long before coming forward with her information Amal had smiled coyly at her. She simply said she needed to be sure someone was searching for justice.

The news was welcome and she had been so excited to share it with it Jack. She continued to keep in contact with Amal as March dragged on. Their correspondence proved to be a constant surprise of information. She and Jack worked carefully to build the case against the Architect. It was going slowly getting there, the momentum was starting to build but god was it slow. Before she knew it, April had arrived and then was half way over. But they are nearly there. And if she could any semblance of peace and justice for Pollock then she'd be satisfied.

She digs around her coat pockets for her key to her suite. She frowns and turns around slightly while she shoves her hand into her back pocket. Great, where did they go? She frowns and sighs. Did she leave it in London again? She had been in such a rush to get here, to see Charlie after her particularly hellish day that she must not have paid attention to what she grabbed.

She is surprised to hear the door unlock and open. Charlie is standing there and she smiles relieved. However his look seems apologetic. He's wearing a black suit, white shirt and a black tie. She realises that that's the 'uniform' he wears when he's getting ready to do something…nefarious. She swallows. Who is in trouble now? And yet when he kisses her, he sends her troubles away for a moment. She allows him to lead her into her suite. She closes the door with her foot.

'Forget something?' Charlie holds out the key to her suite in her face when he pulls away. Rose smirks and snatches it from his hand.

'Thank you. Thought I might have left it in Chicago,' Rose replies but draws him closer and kisses him deeply. However it isn't long before Charlie pulls away. Rose eyes him. 'Going somewhere?'

'Yes, I came by hoping to catch you before I left.'

'Did you? Well you did. Is everything okay?' Rose wonders, as she's unable to tell since Charlie lacks emotion on his face.

'I don't know.' He admits and holds her closer. Rose keeps herself tucked closely under his embrace. She kisses his neck.

'You're heading out, though, aren't you?' Rose surmises and Charlie smiles slightly. She's good; nothing can be hid from her.

'I am.'

'Dinner with who?'

'Not you, sadly, you're much better company than Masseria.' Charlie replies and Rose smiles slightly. They haven't seen one another in some time, they're finally together and he has to leave again. How is that fair? She reminds herself that these times are rather tumultuous. She needs to learn how to be patient. It has to be nearly over, right? However she attempts to entice him to stay with her longer.

'Can't you tell him you can't make it tonight?' Rose wonders with a small smile and Charlie lets his hands rest on either side of her hips.

'I tried that one time before, remember? He didn't like that.' Charlie reminds her and stands on her toes to kiss him harder, just to make a point. When she pulls away she nods her head in agreement.

'I do remember. But I hadn't seen you in so long…' She feigns disappointment and protest. Charlie smiles and shrugs at her, seeing her point. He doesn't notice that she's been slowly moving herself towards the bedroom.

'I know, trust me, nothing I want more than to say fuck it and stay here with you, but I can't. Not this time. I _have_ to be there.' Charlie informs her and notices that he's half standing in the doorway to her bedroom. Those mischievous hazel eyes pleading with him to stay but her face reveals a hint of understanding. She knows why he has to go but that doesn't mean she won't attempt to make him stay with her.

Rose presses her lips together and nods defeated. 'Okay, well, I'll be here when you get back.'

Charlie tilts her chin up to kiss her. 'Good, I'll make it up to you.' He promises and Rose merely smiles, knowing he doesn't have to do that. She knew what she was getting herself in to. The thought and gesture is nice.

So she doesn't let him go, and they find themselves getting a little carried away. Rose feels his left hand move under her shirt and up her back; she breaks to breathe before firmly kissing him once more. She eyes snap open wide from the shock of his right hand moving off her hip to trail across her stomach before lowering it deeper. She pulls away.

'No. You do that and you'll end up on that bed so fast. And I can promise you the last thing that'll be on your mind is your boss.'

Charlie smirks at her. 'Good to know. Hopefully that spark won't extinguish while I'm gone.'

'Tell you what, you come back to me in one piece and I'll make sure you won't think for a week.' Rose gives him a light shove towards the door. Charlie glances back to her.

'I accept your terms.'

'Good, now go have dinner with your bland company.' Rose tells him and Charlie gives her a slight frown. How had he not noticed what she had on before hand? Now he really wishes he had the option of staying with her. Greater good, he reminds himself. The greater good.

'Thanks for reminding me,' He's nearly out the door when he turns around and Rose is still readjusting her shirt. When she catches his eyes on her she tilts her head. 'It'll be a late night.'

Rose doesn't understand his forewarning. 'That's okay, I'm not going anywhere.' She's glad that Charlie seems to be relieved.

'Please don't. It's going to be a very long night. You're the light at the end of the tunnel.' He answers, a sigh in his voice and he shuts the door. Rose lingers there for some time before she sits on the settee and opens her laptop up. She attempts to get work done but finds herself lingering on Charlie's parting words. What did he mean? Just that he and Masseria have so much to talk about that it'll virtually take all night and into the wee hours of the morning?

Rose presses her lips together and opens the desktop calendar, seeing what appointments she has on the go for 16 April. Only one with Amal but that won't be until ten that night. She opens the file folder under the settee to see what they have to go over when next they meet. Her concentration is broken and re-established several times. She can't help but wonder what exactly Charlie meant by that…she hopes he'll be okay…

She pulls out her mobile and dials Jack's number, needing to take her mind off thoughts she isn't sure she should even have on her mind.


	14. Chapter 14: 1931

There it goes. The unmistakable sound of gunfire erupting. Let's see Masseria survive that one. It won't be like it was in 1922. How he managed to survive a point blank gunshot attack on him, with slight deafness in the left ear from the closeness of the weapon fire, Charlie will never know. But this time it's unavoidable.

He begins to think back to when he grew dissatisfied with Masseria's character. It was most likely after Arnold had been killed. The embarrassment of having to go back with difficult to take but at the same time nothing he could do about it. And Masseria never let him forget it. That didn't mean that he didn't keep him busy running around with securing the gangs that surrounded him, before Maranzano's arrival from Sicily, before Masseria attempted to grab the Castellammarese faction.

He thinks about the meeting he had in '22 with Valenti and Morello. Masseria had kept him out the outs of what he and Morello had talked about. The only instruction given to him from Masseria had been to take out Valenti but let Morello lead. Because those instructions hadn't been embarrassing. The small talk in the restaurant had gone on longer than originally thought. Valenti wasn't that bright until nearly an hour had passed and it had been then he realised Masseria wasn't coming. A deal had been struck and that meant that Valenti was the odd man out.

Chaos erupted, everyone reaching for their guns until the two men Valenti brought with him went down, Valenti fled and they had to chase him into the streets. He hadn't be able to get a good shot since the others were firing blindly into the streets like idiots, drawing more attention to themselves. For fuck sake they had struck an eight-year-old girl! She had died by the time he had made it back to her; the others had to pull him back so they could hide. Those fuckers had hit her with their bullets and then left her in the street. It wasn't fucking right.

That's when he had been pissed off enough, as he had been watching Valenti jump onto the running board of a passing taxi when he had taken careful aim and shot. Valenti dropped to the street. When he told Masseria about how botched it had gone, the two civilians they had hit and killed all Masseria had wanted to know was if Valenti was dead. He confirmed Valenti was, it had been a lucky shot that he had been able to drop him as he did.

Masseria had laughed and confirmed that's one of the reasons he was called Lucky. No concern for the girl they killed, or the man, nothing like that, as long as he got his aspirations met.

Still no respect from Masseria. When he announced at the Venezia restaurant in East Harlem that night that he was assuming control of the Morello family with Morello as his number two, he had felt slighted. Masseria kept him down near the bottom, where all the dirty work was to be taken care of. Didn't matter if Masseria trusted him enough to get it done, he wanted more and the only obstruction preventing him from advancing further was Masseria.

Frankie Yale's death seems to be the point where he realised Masseria wanted to assume control of all the Mafia gangs in New York City, so 1928? Five years after the Valenti murder and that wasn't enough for Masseria. Then D'Aquilla was killed by Morello because of bad blood between the two gangs or resentment, he thought for sure Masseria would give him a small piece of D'Aquilla's family. But no. Masseria gave it to Alfred Mino and Steve Ferrigno. Soon after, Masseria had gone after Yale's organisation and Anthony Carfano, even though they maintained control of Yale's gambling and bootlegging interests but Masseria shifted control of the Waterfront racket to the D'Aquilla family and Mineo. Still nothing was offered to him by Masseria. The resentment had been growing.

Masseria's power had grown so extensive that other Sicilian gang leaders, like Gaetano Reina, paid homage to him to avoid death. Didn't end up working so well for Reina, though. Pity. He really liked Gaetano.

But he thinks what really pissed him off the most was the fact that even though he had been doing everything Masseria contacted him for, he still turned his fucking gaze on _his_ Broadway Mob. Because Masseria realised that he hadn't been paying tribute. No, course not; he'd just been doing all the fucking work. The lectures he'd gotten from Masseria. Nothing was ever good enough for Masseria.

Even thinking about it now irritates him. Charlie leans against the wall before straightening up and fixing his tie. China is shattering into a million and one pieces, the screams of the restaurant owners and Albert's shouts to the others to finish it up. Yeah, they're taking entirely too long. He reaches into the pocket of his jacket to retrieve his cigarettes and he strikes a light, inhaling deeply. This was risky. He didn't think it'd actually work. Ever since someone told him that he'd been planning on order a hit on him, guilty of course, Masseria hadn't really trusted him. Even as he swore that whoever had told him that had been full of shit Masseria seemed to reluctantly accept that but Charlie could see that the trust didn't return. Masseria never treated him differently but Charlie caught the looks of distrust out of the corner of his eye.

Which he had been right to do. He had been planning his murder. Ever since he and Vito came to the desperate conclusion that they were on the losing team. The ship was sinking and it had been time to bail. Contacting Maranzano had been his idea; Vito had been vehemently against it. Charlie had to work on Vito to get him on his side, promising him that Maranzano said this was the only way to end the feuding, restore some impression of peace to the gangs and, even though Maranzano was a Moustache Pete, he was actually in favour of modernising the Mafia. He was willing to open the doors to other gangs. Other nationalities. Which is something _he's_ been lobbying for since he started working for Masseria. There is always enough money to go around. Vito had reluctantly agreed only if he could be apart of the hit team. Settle some grievances with Masseria. Years in the making.

The fact that they didn't want to work with other non-Italians surprised him. Even worse when they found out that his sources and preferred contacts like Ben and Meyer, who are Jewish, and Costello, who is Calabrian, they had heaped lectures on him about who he was supposed to associate with and it wasn't those guys. Imagine that, he, in his twenties back then, and he was still getting lectured about who he was supposed to hang around. It took everything in him not to tell them to fuck off. Had he, he'd probably be in a shallow grave.

When the negotiations began, he supposed he knew it would come to this. It was unavoidable. Masseria wasn't likely to just 'retire,' no he knew the only way to end this was death, and Maranzano had no qualms about murdering another boss to do it. Neither did he, apparently because he wasn't sad to see Masseria go, after all, what had he done for him, really? He had worked his way up to the top, without help, it was his talents and taste for violence that got him noticed by Masseria first but Masseria didn't do anything, it was just work. Go, collect money, etc, etc. No, the only allegiance he owed anyone was Arnold. Arnold provided all the education he needed. How to run rackets like a business, and how to move through high society with ease. Yeah, back then, he did lack the knowledge to do that, he was just a street thug in those days.

Imagine his humiliation when he had to go crawling back to Masseria after Arnold's murder. Still, the best thing Arnold could have given him gave him the means to make it on his own. That was invaluable.

Charlie exhales, a cloud of smoke stretches in front of him. It's quiet now. He'll wait a few more seconds just to ensure that Masseria's actually dead before he ventures out. He goes over his story a few more times in his head. Who does he know on the police force on Coney Island? Hm, no name comes to his mind. Still, easy enough to talk his way out, just because he planned this didn't mean he was there. Well, it wasn't as if he witnessed everything. The story practically writes itself. They're in the middle of a war, the police will think Maranzano hired the gunmen, it's solid. Then again given his reputation, he'll be hauled off for questioning nonetheless. Yeah, he didn't _see_ it but he did _plan_ it. Two very different things.

He can't help but wonder how things are going to be different now. He also doesn't know why there is still a lingering shadow of doubt in his mind about the future, now as he pushes the door open to survey the damage. Since it hardly seems to matter now, the debris is everywhere; Charlie flicks the ash from his cigarette onto the floor. He walks towards the table he shared with Masseria moments ago, glass crunches audibly under his feet. Bullet holes riddle the surrounding walls; flecks of plaster and wood lie scattered around the table and floor. The table they had been sitting at lies on its side, the cards from some game he can't remember have deposited themselves on the floor and a few lie close to Masseria's body.

Masseria lies on his back staring up at the ceiling and so Charlie crouches down for a closer look.

Bullet holes have punctured Masseria's midsection so many times it's hard to tell the dress shirt underneath the jacket had, at one point, been white. He would have been dead seconds after hitting the ground however just for good measure, one of them had put a bullet in his head, a clear sign it the underworld. Problem is the four that had been put up to the task, Albert, Ben, Vito and Joey, all four of them had a penchant for sending grisly messages it was hard to tell which one delivered the final shot. Hell, Vito's murder of Reina had been rather nasty, but then again shot gun blasts to the back of one's head tend to do that.

Masseria's blank stare at the ceiling tells Charlie he should've struck first. But he hesitated and now look at him. Dead on a restaurant floor on Coney Island.

Charlie's look darkens when he thinks about the constant shit that's been going on between him, Masseria, his gang and the others. For eight years. He and the others moved seamlessly through the high society types, conducted themselves in a professional manner, and dressed the part but not Masseria. They were constantly apologising for Masseria's constant lack of manners and poor etiquette, he was a poor reflection on them and they had to work doubly hard to prove to people that they were not him. The more Charlie stares at him, the more incensed he becomes. All the times Masseria had refused to listen to him, shouting that he was nothing but a thug and he should be on his knees thanking him for making him a capo because he'd never be anything else. Charlie stubs the cigarette out of the floor close to Masseria's stunned, empty gaze. Masseria would never know because he never even bothered to see how talented he actually was. Fatal mistake.

Charlie gets to a standing position. 'Fuck you. You had it coming.'

He goes towards the massive window, picking up and setting a chair aside from when the three gunmen burst in and notices something rather…nerve wracking. The getaway vehicle is still parked outside. While they had pulled the tag off, slightly reassuring, they're still fucking sitting there! Why? Why the fuck haven't they moved?! And then he realises why. Terranova is just sitting at the wheel staring at the restaurant. Every once and awhile he'll glance down to what Charlie assumes to be the gearbox before locking stares with the restaurant again with a stunned expression, mouth agape. Ben is beside him, gesturing wildly to the restaurant before Albert leans forward and wraps his arm around Terranova's neck, breaking his stare with the restaurant as he grabs a hold of Albert's forearm trying to pull it away. He watches Vito lean forward and attempt to pull Albert off of Terranova.

Joey appears out of the window at the back to sit on the lip to check the street for impending cop cars. So far nothing but the sirens have started faint. They're coming.

When Joey and Charlie meet one another's gazes, Joey shrugs, knowing what Charlie is pissed about and he merely points to Terranova's inability to drive. Charlie shakes his head and Joey slides back in the car, shoving Albert aside so he can talk to Ben while Terranova gasps for air. Ben says something to Albert and Albert leans forward practically pulling Terranova out of the driver's seat as Ben slides over and the car jerks forward. In a rush, Ben's gear changes are sometimes premature. The last thing Charlie sees is Albert giving Terranova a much-deserved beating. Vito hops into the front seat with Ben and they begin talking.

The whole thing could have been royally screwed because that fucking idiot can't slip a car into gear. Joey leans out the back window again and holds his arm up in acknowledgement. Charlie couldn't care; just get the fuck off of Coney Island.

'Sono … sono andati?' An older woman appears in the doorway that leads to the alleyway. She's the mother in law of the owner, their home is right across from their restaurant.

'Sì, ma è meglio chiamare la polizia.' Charlie replies and reaches in to grab another cigarette. He strikes a light with the matches and shakes the match out. Dropping it on the floor runs the risk of igniting this entire building because of all the spilt alcohol. Well, he never conceded that they had good aim.

'Perché?' She wonders and Charlie merely smiles at her, stepping aside so she can see the bullet-ridden body of his former boss.

'Questo.'

He watches the woman's hands fly to her mouth to stifle her scream and she backs away towards the door, her face as white as a sheet. She turns towards the door and dashes out, shrilling calling for her husband to call for the police.

Charlie merely listens as the sirens draw closer and closer. He isn't really wanting to waste away the night hours going over the same basic story over again for however many cops will question him. They'll tell him he's lying and he is but he can't corroborate something he didn't actually see. He audibly sighs.

The crunching sounds of glass alerts his attention to the back of the restaurant again. This time it's the husband of the woman come out to investigate. When the shooting started they must have ducked out and into the alleyway. He really needs to lean their names. He watches the owner turn around in small circles surveying the damage. When he spots one man standing and the other dead on the floor in a pool of blood he glances from the dead one to the living one.

'cosa, cosa è successo?' He wonders but his voice is strained. Clearly not the way he wanted to be spending his night. Yeah, him either.

'omicidio.' Charlie replies simply and the sirens of the impending cop cars continue to draw ever closer. Dread builds within him. At the prospect of all the hours he's going to waste.

'Come ha fatto … stai …? Non stavi male? Struck?' The man wonders, struggling to have his words form correctly. The first Model A screeches to a halt outside the restaurant. And it begins.

Charlie turns to the owner still glancing around the to the mess. 'No, perdere l'intero spettacolo.' He doesn't repress his smirk well enough but the owner isn't really listening.

The first cop rushes in, followed by another. Their eyes are immediately drawn to the body of Masseria still on the floor. Charlie is nearly certain a groan escapes the one cop while the younger one, compared to the veteran, pushes his hat off his face.

'Well, no need to ask why we're here,' The veteran cop glances over his shoulder to the second Model A that has pulled up. He waves them in. His tired green eyes fall on Charlie and the emotions drain from his face. 'Shoulda known, with you here, Lucky, that's never a good thing. What the fuck happened?'

'A murder.'

'Thank you. Smart ass,' The veteran replies without missing a beat. 'In here fellas. But the antics aside, Lucky, what actually happened. And don't go smarting off, either.'

Charlie simply gives him an impatient look. 'Already told you. A murder. Right there. On the floor.'

'I have eyes, I can see. I want to know how it happened.' The cop replies with just the same amount of impatience.

'He was shot to death, by my guess. See, four bullet holes in the back and one to the head. Course I don't wanna do your job for you,' Charlie answers and the cop sighs audibly. 'I didn't see anything.'

'I don't believe you. You're somewhere else and the sound of gunshots ringing out doesn't cause you to come back and see what's going on?' The cop questions and Charlie tilts his head. It's so hard to not answer with a smart comment.

'No, I hear gunshots I'm not running towards it, I'm gonna go another way.' Charlie states, semi seriously, and the cop stares at him. Charlie can see he's slowly aggravating him and he has to suppress the urge to smirk.

The cop sniffs and points his men around the restaurant floor. They slowly start to fan out, watching the tension building between their boss and a gangster. 'Guess that means it separates the brave from the cowards.' Everyone is silent, even the cops combing through the scene while Charlie strikes up another cigarette. He exhales thoughtfully and concedes with a small nod.

'Or the stupid from the smart.'

Snickers are heard from the cops as they continue to piece together Masseria's last moments. The veteran cop isn't amused and his face reddens slightly, but from embarrassment or anger, Charlie isn't sure. He just stops himself from smirking.

'You know you'll have to come down to the station with us so we can get a full account of what happened here tonight, right?'

'I'm aware, yes.'

'Good. Hope you've cleared your schedule of plans.' The cop replies and Charlie folds his arms.

'I'll give you my statement and that's it. It shouldn't take long.' Charlie answers firmly and he can see the cop entertaining the thought of placing him in cuffs, as he fingers the set on his hip. He lets his hand fall to his side.

'You'll go when I say you can.' The cop states darkly and again thinks about the cuffs. Charlie keeps his gaze locked with the cop until the cop blinks and looks away. Only then does Charlie move to collect his hat from the ground and bushes the glass off of it with his sleeve.

'Right, so, shall we?' Charlie questions and puts on the hat. The cop glances to the others putting down the flags. Out comes number eight. He nods his head. It's gonna be a long night.

'Carry on, fellas. I'll send Holden down in my stead,' The cop informs them and some groan. That sound the cop chooses to ignore. 'You. In the car.' He points to Charlie and Charlie merely walks out the door, the cop following him.

On his way out he takes one last look at the body of Masseria. He pulls the hat further down to hide his smirk. Victory, it seems, belongs to the Castellammarese faction. Maranzano better understand the gravity of this victory for them. Now things would be on the up. And they could finally start to get themselves on the same level as the Irish and Jewish gangs. Had they let this war continue on any longer, they'd be on the fringes of the underworld. This war nearly destroyed them. It's left them weak and it's gonna take a hell of a lot of work to begin to repair the damage done so they can start claiming the power once again.

* * *

><p>'I don't know how else to say it. It's been five hours. I've said it every which way I can imagine. It hasn't changed. Would you like me to tell you in Italian, maybe then you'll get it?' Charlie states impatiently and the two cops in the room with him exchange looks. Charlie leans back in the chair and folds his arms.<p>

'Just seems a bit too convenient, you know?' One cop, McKnight wonders. The one that had been on scene first at the restaurant.

'No, I don't.'

'Word on the street has been there's a bit of a territory feud going on. A power grab.' McKnight questions and leans forward to rest his forearms on the table. Charlie nearly curses. That's the problem with the streets. They're never wrong. He can feel himself getting agitated. It's the lack of sleep and the lack of nicotine. Since they confiscated everything he had on him.

'That so? I wouldn't know.'

'Come on, give us something. You mean to tell me you're in the company of a man and you don't know he's involved in a territory dispute?' The other cop replies, Charlie forgets his name. Mills, he thinks. Doesn't really care.

'You think he tells me anything?' Charlie questions back and McKnight leans closer to Charlie.

'Heard you're the muscle for that guy.'

'You heard wrong.' Charlie replies and McKnight turns to Mills. He's actually rather insulted that's all he's seen as. He's much more than that. It takes a lot in him to keep his mouth shut on that matter, slighted like that. Masseria's greatest legacy, the legacy that makes people think he's just a low level thug, the muscle.

'You've been arrested twenty five times and you expect us to believe, with a rap sheet like yours, that you're not involved with this guy on a deeper level? You expect us to _believe_ that?' Mills repeats and Charlie shrugs slightly.

'If you think there's more than that, then where's your proof?' Charlie replies and the cops both lean back in their seats. Right because you have none. My word against the streets. No one is going to say anything. Charlie keeps his look neutral. 'Right. Because there isn't any.'

'Maybe not right now. But the law's never far behind crooks like you.' McKnight informs him haughtily and Charlie loosens his tie slightly.

'Crooks are people who rob banks and commit petty crimes. I'm not a crook.' Charlie replies evenly and the corners of McKnight's mouth stretch into a small, tight smile.

'You've got an over inflated ego if you think that you're not. You're no better than them.' McKnight answers and again Charlie simply shrugs at him.

'Says you.' Charlie enjoys watch the frustration play out on their faces. They have no evidence to charge him with anything; street gossip can't be corroborated because those witnesses all too often disappear. Or they're intimated so fiercely that they won't testify. Cops know that all too well. How it must frustrate them.

These cops are hoping that if they keep him here long enough he'll get desperate enough and give him a small piece of information they can use against him or others. Well, he won't. If being arrested twenty five times has taught him anything it's that he has to be patient. If they had something they'd have revealed their hand by now. He can play this game all night because he knows he'll win it.

'Tell us again, one more time…' Mills begins before Charlie interrupts him impatiently.

'Seriously? Fuck. You've both forgotten it already? Five times and it's gone? What makes you think the sixth time'll be any better?' Charlie wonders and McKnight feels himself redden at the accusation. There isn't a point in telling him that it's to ensure that the story doesn't change, but he hates to admit it to himself that the story hasn't altered at all, just the phrasing but the consistency is something that's been shown each time.

'Yeah, one more time.' Mills replies and he sees McKnight exhale his anger and frustration. Charlie doesn't reply and Mills glances over to McKnight. He shakes his head and Charlie arches his eyebrow with a smirk. McKnight sighs angrily and reaches in to his jacket pocket and pulls out a cigarette that he passes with reluctance over to Charlie. And then the matchbook, which he slides over the table.

Charlie smirks at his small victory. He takes the matchbook and breaks off a match, striking a light and igniting the cigarette. He inhales deeply and immediately feels calmer than he had a moment ago. 'What do you want to know?'

'What happened,' Mills can feel his patience dwindling. With that gesture given, this criminal may have bought himself more time. Especially when Charlie stares at them with a smirk. 'What you can tell us happened. Who did it, if you can.'

'I don't know who did it. I said that already. The guy had a lot of enemies. So you'd better make a list.' Charlie advises and McKnight pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. He's going to have to cut him loose soon. They are not getting anywhere with him.

'I'm sure you have some idea of who would want to take this guy out.' McKnight assumes and Charlie takes a deep drag on the cigarette.

'No, I don't.'

'So, forgetting that, then what?' McKnight rests his elbows on the table while Mills leans back. Charlie can see they're getting weary. Hopefully this won't be much longer.

'Like I said, we were playing cards-…' Charlie begins before Mills interrupts him.

'What time was that at?'

'I don't know, close to ten,' Charlie answers and watches McKnight close his eyes. He won't make a mistake. Not now, he knows what he's said over the last five hours. 'I got up to use the restroom. And then I heard the sound of gunshots. I waited in there until I was sure it was safe to go out.'

'What'd you find out there?' Mills wonders and Charlie watches McKnight stave off a yawn. He feels the same. It's gotta be close to four or five in the morning.

'Joe Masseria dead on the floor.'

'Did you see any gunmen escaping? Did you get a glimpse of a car?' Mills questions and Charlie shakes his head. The cigarette is getting dangerous close to being depleted. Damn.

'No. No car, no gunmen. I imagine they came in, open fired and then left before they could get caught.' Charlie states and Mills sighs. Clearly they've given up. Ben was lucky enough to get control of the car from Terranova, they're extremely lucky they never ran into police while making their getaway.

'Right. Course not.' McKnight rubs his temples and exchanges a defeated look with Mills. There isn't anything else they can do. Even though they believe that this criminal knows more than he's letting on, they believe they know who committed this murder, they know he is connected to this Joe Masseria on a deeper level but they have no solid proof. And they know he knows.

They want more to this story. There has to be. Word on the streets from the careful rats is that two factions from Italy came here to take control. One man in charge didn't want to give up control, did appreciate the one moving into his business and that's how this massive territory battle commenced. Thankfully the only ones who had been the victims of this violence had been the gangsters. While that is a rather bleak way of viewing this war, after all, they know that those men killed had been husbands and fathers and now they've been killed leaving widows and orphans. Better than innocent bystanders. They knew the consequences of getting in to that kind of life. No hard feelings, it was just business.

But what's this connection Charles Lucanio has to this kind of life? Not much is known about him, the rats won't talk much about him other than keep your distance. They are aware he has a rap sheet, but not recently. The last time he had been in a police station, after a few phone calls around the Boroughs, had apparently been in October of '29. On Staten Island, after that he had kept his nose clean, so they believe. But something doesn't sit right with them. He's still involved with criminals, the rats have said he's one of the fastest rising mobsters, he's quickly accumulating power however he's doing it in secret.

In spite of this…until they can get proof it's all speculation. This murder, he isn't help with, he didn't see anything but they know there's more to it than he's really letting on. But again…no proof the case is going to go cold. Mills steals another look and McKnight who closes his eyes in a curt agreement.

'Well, we appreciate the-…' Mills begins before McKnight cuts him off.

'No help you gave us.'

'You're welcome.' Charlie replies, ignoring their obvious sarcasm. He stubs out the cigarette on the table and arches his eyebrow. He pushes the chair back and the two cops stand.

'Right, well, you think of anything else, give us a call.' Mills offers his hand and Charlie eyes it as he stands as well before reluctantly shaking Mills' hand. McKnight doesn't stay around instead heading towards the door and opening.

'Sure.' Charlie places his hat on his head and exchanges a smirk with McKnight who waits until Charlie's just out the door before he slams it so hard the glass part of the window rattles. As he heads down the hall towards the exit he can hear the muffled shouts as the two cops engage in a yelling match.

As he walks towards the entrance he wonders if he should call Maranzano now or wait until the morning. Deciding that he's entirely too tired to bother, he hopes that Vito would have informed him himself. There are going to be a lot of…logistics to sort out in the morning. Everything is still so up in the air.

That mere thought of what it's going to take to get things righted sounds exhausting.

* * *

><p>He tries to slide the lock into place as quietly as he can. It's nearly six in the morning. He peers into the back portion of her suite, she is still asleep, thankfully. The window is open again, the curtains blowing so close to her face is a wonder she hasn't awoken from it. Charlie sighs as he heads into her room, loosening the tie around his neck and shrugging off his jacket as he shuts the window, leaving it open a crack. She likes it open…she's just her.<p>

She had been upset they wouldn't be spending the night together, even if she carefully masked it. He could see the defeat in her eyes. She would always tease him about taking work home with him, and he did because it never, ever stopped. She just…accepted there wasn't anything she could do to change his mind or take him from it. And she'd just give him nod and say whether or not she'd be there when he got back. Eighty percent of the time she was, she'd have waited until he got back before she'd go or she left and came back.

The mysterious job she does would have her banged up some times. Even now as he gazes at her form from his spot by the window there is the formation of a bruise on the lower part of her back. The sheet keeps most of it from being exposed, however it's colouring is darker than the shadows on her back, darker than the lightness of her skin tone. He wants to know how she gets them; some of them that have appeared look as though it had been violent. The mere thought of someone even raising their hand to her…but…then again she's always assured him that she can handle her own. It also doesn't repress the thought of her running a bordello as the madam. Even though she gets that hard look in her eyes at the mere mention of that profession, he, Albert and Joey have learned that the hard way. But what could she possibly do? It's a mystery that doesn't need to be solved right away. Charlie draws the covers over her body; a hand appears and grips the covers, pulling them tighter to her.

He sits on the bed after drawing the curtain tighter just a bit more, since the dawn light continues to get earlier and earlier, and glances over his shoulder to Rose, still asleep on her side, she's hardly audible. When he turns his gaze back to the window he can see even since getting into the Chelsea how lighter it's gotten. It's almost as if what's the point in sleeping? He could start the chain of phone calls he's certain he'll start getting, why not be the once to initiate it? That mere thought is exhausting as he pulls himself up off the bed and out into the lounge part of her room. He notices the small piles of things she seems to place around the suite and forget about. Disorganised and yet organised. It makes him smile as he sits on the chair next to the phone. He pauses before he lifts the phone…what if they aren't even home yet? He debates with himself before finally deciding that rather than call everyone, he'll attempt to get a hold of Vito, since it's the two of them that have so much at stake. At this point he doesn't even care if he wakes the house up, just a confirmation that everyone played their parts well. He dials the number and waits, feeling himself staring off into nothing.

'Been waiting for you to call. What the fuck took you so long?'

'Damn cops.' Charlie answers and smiles.

'Ah fuck them, they won't solve this one.' Vito answers assuredly. Charlie leans back in the chair a bit before he has to shake himself awake.

'They nearly could have. Care to explain what the fuck happened out there?' Charlie question and Vito shouts to someone in rapid Italian before he answers.

'Apparently Terranova found our…way of dealing with Masseria a bit too…grisly for his liking. Our entrance into the restaurant and subsequent killing of Masseria was _so_ shocking to him. Honestly, the man's a gangster and it's as if he's never seen a hit before.' Vito laments and Charlie rubs his eyes to refocus.

'You weren't followed?' Charlie wonders and Vito scoffs.

'Course not, not with Ben driving, anyway. He's good at getting lost; we put the tag back on once we had reached Manhattan again. We didn't pass any coppers on the way out, either.'

'Good and like you said, they won't solve it.'

'No, not with the story you gave them. How'd the questioning go?' Vito questions and Charlie yawns. This conversation is drawing itself out much longer than he had anticipated. Perhaps calling Vito hadn't been a good idea.

'Well, I'm sure, given the hour I'm calling you at, it took entirely too long to tell them I didn't see anything. But you know how cops are.'

'I do, but they bought it? I mean, Charlie, what are they going to do? You're the only witness and you were not there.' Vito reminds him and Charlie glances into the bedroom where Rose stirs lightly but doesn't awaken.

'No I know, but they seem keen on keeping notes on me.'

'They do for all of us. Well, the ones that aren't in our pockets.' Vito assures him and Charlie decides to tackle one more thing before calling it quits for the day. It's damn well nearing seven in the morning.

'Did you call Maranzano?'

'No. I drove over there the moment we all separated and ditched the car. He seemed pleased enough. Simply said that Masseria put up a good fight and that now we need to get down to the actual business of reorganising. I think he's going to call a meeting.' Vito responds and Charlie leans forward, putting the stalk of the phone on the ground in front of him.

'Meeting? Meeting with who?' Charlie notices a small cut on his knuckle. Must have been from brushing the glass off his hat earlier.

'Didn't say, he did say, though, that he wants to see you before that. Actually now that I'm thinking about it, it sounded like a big meeting. With everyone.' Vito replies and vaguely hears Charlie stifle another yawn.

'As in everyone, everyone? Country wide? Christ, I wonder if this will be where he announces to everyone the conclusion of the war.' Charlie kind of dreads the get together but understands its importance. It will also be good way to reconnect with those they don't see every often. It's a good opportunity to make announcements and changes while all the heads are gathered in the same room that way grievances can be addressed right away.

'Probably and the direction in which we go now,' Vito surmises and listens to Charlie fight off another yawn. 'Where are you now? With the English looker? Delilah?'

'Rose. Yes, for now.' Charlie answers, not wanting to reveal where exactly he is. That and Vito has always been bad with people's real names. Funny how the nicknames always seem to stick to a person, descriptive and true and how they aren't chosen by the recipient, a moniker born out of a situation, a facial description, the likes.

Some didn't mind the nicknames, others loathed them.

Joe Bonanno hated that people, especially the cops, would sometimes call out Joe Bananas to get his attention or Ben Siegel. As kid he had earned the Yiddish nickname _chaye_, which fit Ben perfectly because he couldn't be tamed. But that of course spread a saying around the neighbourhood that he was crazier than a bedbug, hence Bugsy. Call Ben that once to his face and you'd be lucky enough to meet him again. Albert Anastasia was known as the Mad Hatter for a reason, his violent streak and unpredictable nature.

The nicknames are always infinite. Everyone, every associate, boss, capo, the likes has a nickname a uniquely identifiable to the man that bares it. It is like a stigma a saint has. The name is the mark of membership to something bigger than they are. Anyone can call themselves Benjamin Siegel, but there's only one Bugsy. Anyone can be named Albert Anastasia but only one will answer to the Mad Hatter. Anyone can be named Charles Luciano but only one will turn around in a crowd when he hears Lucky.

Even Rose is starting to garner her own nickname, not by his choice although he can see why she's starting to be identified as so. She is referred to as the English Dove amongst them when they meet and inquire about her. Or simply the Dove. Their reasoning, as he had only recently found out, is that she exudes a calmness to her that is able to quell the arguments they've started when she walks in the room. From the time she is there until the moment she leaves no fights breakout, no name calling, yelling and shouting or trading blows. It's as if they're on their best behaviour until she leaves. She brings peace with her when she joins them. Ever since Christmas last year when he introduced her to nearly everyone, they've wanted her to come out with them more often. She is fun but still classy. Rare amongst the women that flock them.

'I think the work has just begun.' Charlie informs Vito who in turn sighs in defeat, as if they knew this was coming. They had to, they couldn't just bump off a boss and expect things to continue on as normal, things have to be dealt with, taken care of and reorganised.

'It'll be worth it, finally we can start making up for the ground we lost and the time we wasted on this petty shit.' Vito agrees and Charlie leans back in the chair, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heel of his hand.

'I guess we have to wait again.'

'Go see Maranzano in the morning.'

'It _is_ the morning.' Charlie reminds him, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Vito laughs a bit. Charlie reaches down and grabs the stalk of the phone, standing and hovers it over the lacquered finished table.

'It is, both of us are due some rest.'

'Let's meet for dinner. I can tell you what Maranzano and talked about. Actually, no. The three of us will meet for dinner. I'll get word to you where.' Charlie decides and turns his sight on Rose, still blissfully asleep.

'That's fine. I'll let the boys know to be aware of a message.'

'I'll keep in touch.' Charlie hangs the receiver up and places the phone back on the table. He heads towards the bedroom, never more relieved that Rose hasn't left yet.

Something familiar to him in these unfamiliar times makes him glad he met her again and that she agreed to continue to see him.

The mere thought or utterance of her name can suppress his demons and make the world around him quiet down. Charlie sits on the bed once again and whatever fumes he'd been running on up until that point leave him. He takes the cufflinks off and places them on the night side table, rolling the sleeves up half way before he gives up entirely and lies back. He's certain he is asleep before his head hits the pillow.

* * *

><p>The woman frowns as hurried footsteps are heard from behind the door. She shifts the tray in her hands and nearly looses the glass. She gasps and straightens her balance. Why did they put her on call duty like this? She doesn't have the coordination. Damn them, they're looking for any reason to sack her. Well, that ain't gonna happen. She's one of the lucky few to have a job, there are thousands more who would be more than willing to step into her shoes should they get the chance. And are clamouring for her to screw up and be sacked. Nope. Not her. She's got people relying on her to succeed. So she's gonna.<p>

She widens her eyes as she hears the locks disengage and a blonde woman opens the door in a flourish. She's wearing a shirt that a man would wear with messy hair and a confused smile on her face. She looks as though she's just awoken. Odd, given that it's nearly half past eleven. But then again gals like this one here obviously have money and so time is on their hands.

'Adelaide. Still got you on this circuit, yeah?'

'Rose, it's awful. I don't know how the others do this. Everyone is so rude! Nothing is ever good enough.' Adelaide complains and Rose smiles sympathetically at her.

'Welcome to the world of the rich, famous and richer.' Rose takes the tray from her, she doesn't even recall asking for breakfast to be brought up but then again she had just fallen asleep without remembering much of anything.

'You're not like that, though. I didn't know this was your room. We've only ever met in the lobby.' Adelaide peers in to the room and notices someone else in the room with her. By her guess, they're asleep still.

'I know, I didn't remember asking for breakfast to be brought up.' Rose confesses and turns back into the room to place the tray on the settee.

'You didn't. Someone else did. Maybe…a boyfriend?' Adelaide raises her eyebrows in anticipation and motions to the bedroom with her eyes. Rose turns back to Charlie, still asleep. How can she see so much from the doorway?

'Really? Huh. And he's not even awake yet,' Rose smiles and Adelaide shrugs. 'Hey, are you singing at the Cotton Club this weekend?'

'Yeah! First big chance. They booked me after the gal who was supposed to open for the main act caught the flu.' Adelaide answers excitedly and Rose presses her finger to her lips as Charlie stirs. Adelaide clasps her hand over her mouth with wide eyes.

'He's had a late night.' Rose smiles apologetically and Adelaide nods, hand still over her mouth.

'If you can make it, I'd love to have you in the audience. Family is still back in Georgia.'

'I'll do my best.' Rose promises and Adelaide grins, embracing her quickly before she pulls away and flattens her uniform and adjusting her cap.

'Great! Can't wait! Sorry I gotta go, other people to appease.' Adelaide smiles and dashes off for the lift, Rose peers out into the hall with her hand up before she disappears around the corner and shuts the door.

Rose turns to the tray she's left on the settee. She isn't really hungry, hungry, but she assumed Charlie ordered whenever he came back from last night's excursions. Whatever time that had been, she didn't even hear him come in or get into bed beside her. She had awoken briefly around nine in the morning surprised to see him asleep, nearly dressed, not quite. He had been difficult to rouse and even then when she finally did he didn't seem pleased she awoken him. He looked as though he had only just fallen asleep. She didn't want to think of the time he had gotten in at because looking at him made her want to sleep more as well.

He had wanted the physical touch of her, but at the same time didn't linger. Short kisses, light but meaningful touches that made her hot however she insisted they attempt to get more sleep when it became clear to her that he was simply too exhausted to go on.

Rose notices the toast stand out on the fine, white china. The caramel coloured bread stands out from the stark whiteness and gilded edges of the plate. She lifts it off first and takes it to the chair along with the newspaper. She'll eat this quickly and then head back to bed. She's still tired from earlier this morning when Charlie had woken up unexpectedly. As though he hadn't recalled falling asleep and was confused as to where he was.

The only reason she had awoken had been because he grabbed her to him. She hadn't minded it was only around eight in the morning. She was going to tell him that she didn't hear him come in last night and that it had to have been late. He shrugged absently. And then she had really looked at him. He had been barely coherent, looked at her through half lidded eyes that were bloodshot. To her it seemed as though he'd only been asleep for an hour or two. When she had inquired as to why he hadn't answered her, he'd fallen back asleep. It made her wonder what he'd been up to last night. However she hadn't dwelled on it for long either. Once Charlie held her tighter to him she closed her eyes and fallen asleep again too. A deep sleep until a curt knock to the door shook her from her sleep. Then it became a frantic search for something to slip on.

Rose takes a bite from the toast wondering how they toasted it so perfectly while she takes the newspaper in her hands and flattens the edges as her eyes skim the cover. As she goes to turn the page something catches her eye on the front page.

_Suspected Gang Leader Gunned Down In Coney Island Restaurant._

Rose nearly chokes on her toast. She quickly flips the pages until she comes to the story. Thankfully there had been no published pictures of the crime scene.

_In the early morning hours of 15 April, one Giuseppe 'Joe' Masseria was gunned down while out to dinner with an associate at __Nuova Villa Tammaro__Restaurant on Coney Island. Witnesses say that four men burst into the restaurant from an unknown access point from the street and opened fired once inside. Masseria had been struck four times in the back and once in the head. .32 and .38 calibre bullets were recovered at the scene. Police also recovered two revolvers in the alleyway. No suspects have been arrested. _

She lowers the paper and the toast falls from her hand back onto the plate. She reads and rereads the excerpt again. She's stunned. She folds the paper down and then opens it again, reads it once more before shoving it to the floor. She gets up and begins to pace. She's nervous and she doesn't know why. She stops by the bedroom door and leans on the doorway trying to recall if she had seen any blood or bullet holes on him. She hadn't focused that well; she tries remembering when she ran her over him if she felt anything suspicious. But she can't. She turns away to stare into the lounge drumming her fingers on her arm. Okay, so…what the hell happened then? She finds herself taking deep breaths, steadying her nerves. What does she think happened? Dinner. Murder. But by whose hand?

Oh she had a suspicion that the negotiations had started. And she had a feeling that was the only way to end this stupid turf war was the leader of one faction being eliminated. Charlie is, was, Masseria's second in command he had to give the go ahead for the hit. What did he gain from it? Even she doesn't know that. Right now she's certain that everything is up in the air for them. One gang is without a leader. They can't be without a leader for long.

Then there is the fact that maybe Charlie didn't know when the hit would come. He could have given his approval and the rest fell into outside hands on the Maranzano side. He could have been tailed as he and Masseria went into that restaurant. Or maybe they didn't know Charlie was with him, maybe he got there first and then the gunmen burst in and opened fired. Not caring who they hit, they were lucky Masseria was the only one hit and not an innocent bystander. But what if Charlie was?

Rose bites her lip and rotates herself to stare at him still asleep in bed. Knowing him, he wouldn't have readily sought medical help. It bothers her more that she can't recall if she had felt any injuries on him. That and the fact that she wants answers. She wrings her hands and presses her lips together and she carefully heads back into the room and inspects the bed.

She can't find any drops of blood on the sheets and so she climbs into bed with him. Hopefully he'll be more lucid than earlier this morning. Ironically only a few hours ago. She presses herself to him, wrapping her arms around his middle and kisses between his shoulder blades. It doesn't take long before he's gripped her hand.

'How can your hands be so cold?' Charlie questions and turns to her while Rose gives him a small smile.

'I have poor circulation in my hands sometimes,' Rose explains and he turns to her. 'How are you?'

'How am I?'

'Yeah, how are you? You're okay?' Rose wonders and Charlie gives her a strange look. She blinks and takes a mental note when he props himself up on his elbow that she can see no visible injuries.

'Besides being utterly exhausted, I'm fine. Why do you ask?' Charlie wonders and brushes out the hair from her eyes, letting his hand linger on her cheek. Rose covers it with her own. He moves his hand from her cheek to behind her head and draws her closer for a kiss. As Charlie rolls back to his back Rose follows. She abruptly breaks away as his hand moves to her lower back and brushes the bruise that has appeared there from being tossed into a wall during a mission not that long ago.

'I read something in the paper this morning.' Rose informs him, cutting him off before he has a chance to ask what she's in pain about.

'Did you? What?' Charlie takes note of the pain that had flashed in her eyes and the quick way she broke the kiss.

'I worried because I read that Masseria had been killed in the restaurant you were at last night. I worried…' Rose is interrupted by Charlie.

'That I was hurt?'

'Yes.'

'I'm not.'

'Are you sure?' Rose's words tumble out before she has a chance to actually think about them. She's so used to people, like herself, that pretend they're well, work through the pain. Course she chooses not to get help, Charlie ignores it because he goes for help, it'll be like Staten Island all over again. He'd get minimal care before being taken for questioning.

'Did you want to look?' Charlie smirks and Rose serious demeanour and concern melt away into a crooked smile. She moves a top him.

'Mm, yes. I owe you a promise, don't I?' Rose recalls and lets out a cry of surprise as Charlie sits up. Rose wraps her arms around his neck.

'That was partly my fault for taking so long.' Charlie replies and Rose presses her forehead with his. Taking note of the pain he caused her earlier by touching her lower back, that bruise looked violent, he keeps his right hand on her left hip and she cups his face kissing him deeply.

'What happened?' She pulls away but Charlie doesn't answer her. Rose closes her eyes. 'Okay, later then. When are you leaving?'

Again Charlie doesn't answer her right away. 'Whenever we're done here.' He doesn't miss the sadness in her eyes however she smiles and nods in defeat. What can she do?

'Is this because of…last night?'

'It is. Things are…chaotic right now.' That wasn't an understatement. He doesn't know what to expect other than the promises made to him by Maranzano and who knows if those will hold true now that the hit had taken place.

'I need to take you away from this.' Rose replies, half serious. Charlie merely shrugs in response. He can hear the playfulness to her voice.

'You can try, it always finds me.'

'Or maybe you always find it.'

'Or there's that,' Charlie agrees and as Rose places her hand on his chest to push him back down to the bed he grabs it and she tilts her head. It dawns on her. She must sense that he won't be around until later tonight again or not at all. 'I don't know what'll happen, so, don't wait around. Once things become settled again, things should go back to normal.'

'I hope it won't take forever. I don't like only have a few hours here and there with you.' Rose informs him and he wholeheartedly agrees with her. A woman like her could get bored very easily. Sometimes he wonders why she hasn't left yet.

'I know, I don't like it anymore than you do, but hopefully after this meeting, things will get sorted and be as they were.' Charlie tells her seriously and before Rose can reply to that he's kissed her deeply. She's resolved to make him stay as long as she can.


	15. Chapter 15: 1931

'I have to go to Upstate New York.' He complains loudly and Rose looks up from her laptop in the bedroom when she hears the door swing open and Charlie's loud voice. She panics and shuts the computer down, leaning over the edge of the bed to slide it under and places some of her clothing around the spot she's concealed it. She sits up when he comes into the bedroom looking less than impressed.

Rose throws her hair up as she slides off the bed and frowns, watching Charlie shrug off his overcoat and jacket. 'What? Hang on, back up. What about Upstate New York?'

Charlie is angrily taking off the cufflinks while Rose holds her hand out. He drops them in there and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. She walks to the dresser and gently places them on top, taking a quick glance at her watch. Nearly midnight. He hadn't mentioned anything about dinner, too. He'd stopped by the Chelsea briefly around four in the afternoon. Three hours after she allowed him to leave.

She had been in the shower getting the remnants of her training session with Ivan off her. Charlie informed her he'd be heading out again. Don't wait up; this is going to be another long night. She didn't tell him how exhausted he looked. She didn't think this was so complicated. Again when she briefly skimmed it in a book it sounded, it was written, with so much less complexity than she's currently experiencing right now. It had the tone of this happened, and then this and this, and then that was it. But it's not. It's getting to the this and that that is taking so long. Testing every player's limits in this game.

She taken so long at dresser, lost in her thoughts that she feels her heart rate increase when Charlie wraps his arms around her middle. She exhales slowly to calm herself down from being startled.

'Things were not settled. I have to go to Upstate New York. Country wide meeting.' Charlie repeats and Rose wraps her arm around his neck still staring at the dresser.

'When are you going?'

'Day after tomorrow.'

'How long?'

'Hopefully not longer than the weekend.' Charlie answers and Rose closes her eyes. A meeting with all the Mafiosi in America. A whose who, everyone will be there. There to talk about the future of the Mafia. So that everyone will be on the same page. This is it. The Five Families are about to be created with the Outfit officially recognised as an extension of the New York Mafia. To be a fly on the wall for that conversation.

'Okay…' Rose has a sigh to her voice that she didn't mean to convey. This is just the way the time is for them right now. She just has to get through the rest of 1931 and things will settle. Problem is 1931 just started. They're only four months in. 'Will you call me, at least? I mean, if you have time?'

'I'll make time,' Charlie replies seriously and Rose smiles, turning around into his embrace. 'That offer to get away for the weekend still on the table?' He jokes, half serious and Rose places her hand on his cheek.

'You just tell me when.'

'After this meeting, with all the old school pricks, I'm gonna need more than a weekend.' Charlie insists and Rose smiles, biting back her laughter. He really, truly hates them.

'Slow down, let's not do anything rash you know you won't be able to commit to,' Rose counters and Charlie merely arches his eyebrow at her. 'Get the rest of this week over with first. See what happens. We'll go from there.'

'After this shit is dealt with, I think I'll have a lot more free time on my hands.' Charlie decides and kisses Rose ardently. She breaks away and pushes him towards the bed; her hazel eyes shine with mischievousness and passion. God, there is just something about Charlie, something so wonderfully wicked and she's never been so attracted to someone as she is with Charlie. The mention of his name arouses her beyond anything she known before. She's resolved to send him off right.

* * *

><p>The smoke is so thick in the air that it obstructs the light in the room. It's hazy, the smell of alcohol clings heavily to the air. He isn't surprised; most of them are half in the bag, what had started out as a celebration at Babette's Supper Club turned sour the moment the announcement came out.<p>

Even now, as they all gathered in his room, crammed is more like it; the mood is grim and angry. Charlie looks around to the blank and yet angry faces of those around him. They're thinking. Thoughtful swigs from a glass, cigarettes burning low, each man lost in his own thoughts.

* * *

><p><em>'I have brought each an every one of you here for a purpose. To tell all of you that the Castellammarese war has officially concluded. No more bloodshed. A noble fight had been had on all sides, and all sides lost good members, good friends in the name of this senseless violence. And for what? Power. Yes, power is what we all want but we must sacrifice much to get it.<em>

_'But we will reward loyalty as well. Because I have emerged as the winner of this war with the help of the men you see before me I have decided to make changes. Sometimes change is not easy, we fear the unknown but I tell you this. If we do not change our ways, our mindsets, we are doomed to repeat this war. _

_'The changes are as follows, each major city in America will have its own family boss to oversee everything, day to day operations, etc., however, because New York City is so large and the sheer amount of crime is too great for one family to control on its own. Each Borough of New York will have it's own family. I myself will maintain control of my own interests. Masseria's former interests will fall to Charlie Luciano. Tommaso Gagliano will maintain his control of the Reina interests, Giuseppe Profaci will keep control of his Brooklyn interests and finally, Frank Scalise will keep control of the D'Aquilla/Mineo interests. _

_'One final, thing gentlemen, true that while this reorganisation will ensure things will never get out of hand again, to ensure that will not get to that point I will be creating a new position held exclusively by myself. I am the capo di tutti capi. As your leader, you owe a percentage of every racket you're involved with, I do not care where you are in this country, I am owed a percent. It will be a seventy/thirty split, my favour, with no room for negotiations. You will not be happy at first, I understand that, but this is to prevent war, gentlemen, and we will get used to this arrangement. I expect your loyalty and respect. If you do as I say then we should have no more problems and this will be a prosperous time for everyone.'_

_'Yeah, for him only no doubt.' _

_Charlie glances over to where Al Capone is shaking his head as he strikes a light and brings it towards the cigar. He's so angry that he's unable to form words; he just gives Vito a blank look. Vito is taking deep breaths to stop from saying something he shouldn't._

_A half hour passed after Maranzano's speech. Charlie still can't think of something to say._

* * *

><p>Vito abruptly slams his fists on the table, rattling the crystal glasses and startling those who hadn't been paying attention. Charlie places his hand on the top his glass and taps the cigarette he'd just taken out on the table a few times before bringing it to his mouth and stares at Vito.<p>

'If none of you fuckers is gonna say it then I am. This is a fucking joke!'

'Calm down, Vito.' Charlie strikes a match and stares at him. Vito gapes at him. So do the others.

'What the fuck do you mean calm down?! Were you at the same meeting I was or were you not paying attention?' Vito wonders loudly and the others shift their looks between Vito and Charlie. Charlie swishes the whiskey around in his glass.

'Course I was fucking there.'

'Thought you'd be more outraged.' Vito replies seriously and Charlie exhales a cloud of smoke in front of him and reaches for his glass, staring at the diminished contents before hurling towards the opposite wall, whizzing by Vito's head and slamming at the wall shattering upon impact.

'Course I'm fucking outraged!' Charlie shouts and Vito holds up his hands as an apology. 'You think I had any fucking idea he'd do this?' Charlie wonders and sees Frank open his mouth. 'Frank, I fucking swear, you open your mouth to say something stupid you'll be on the fucking ground before the words leave your mouth.'

'Alls I was gonna say, Charlie, was with this position of power you can fucking do something about this. I don't want that fucker getting one fucking cent of my money.' Frank informs him and Charlie continues to glare at Frank.

'What the fuck was the point of all this work if we're getting fucked over anyway?' Albert wonders and downs the rest of his drink.

'Going head to head with one instead of two puts the odds in our favour.' Charlie answers. Vito leads forward and places his elbow on the table.

'The one good thing that's come from this is the organisation. The rest of the country is taken care of, only New York needs to be straightened out.' Vito states and a murmur ripples across the table.

'We all know what needs to happen.' Frank surmises and solemn nods are the answers around the table.

'If that's the case then this needs to be carefully planned. All the details have to be worked out,' Charlie instructs and watches a few of them finish up their drinks and stare thoughtfully into the glass. 'He knows the hit men I use. I'll speak with Meyer tomorrow and set up a meeting tomorrow night. Until then, when we leave tomorrow, it's business as usual.'

'You want me to give him seventy percent of my money, just like that?' Vito snaps his fingers and Charlie stubs the cigarette out in the ashtray. He gives Vito a dark look.

'Of course I expect that, I gotta do the same. All of us have to.'

'But _seventy_ percent?!' Vito exclaims and Charlie taps the cigarette he's just taken out on the table once again, he stares at it before lifting his gaze to Vito's.

'Yes, seventy percent. Don't skim him, either. You all survived one war, don't go out because you got greedy and attempted to send a message,' Charlie watches some of them scowl and lean back in their chairs, folding their arms. 'We already know what needs to be done. The hardest part is waiting until the loose ends are tied up. But mark my words. Maranzano won't be alive by the end of the year.'

They seem satisfied by that response, thankfully. It's true; he didn't plan on having Maranzano survive that long. Renege on a deal like that and there will be payback. Everyone leaves shortly after, resolved to go to the local whorehouse. Only two remain. One, the rest of them expect but not the other. Joey makes that the comment that ten years ago, they wouldn't have been able to get him out. Charlie smiles at the glass in front of him. He simply tells them that he's…matured a bit. He also used to be a lot more rash, impatient and impulsive. So ambitious it often got mistaken for arrogance.

But they know the truth. Ever since Gayle left the picture, because he'd always go with them even though he was with her, and Rose took her place he's been different. In small ways. Rose has standards and expects him to meet them and if he fails, even once, she's gone. They know that and he knows that, plus…the novelty has worn off. Whores typically have the same bag of tricks, hell he should know. Didn't matter the Borough back in the day, he'd been to them all. Not Rose. It's different with her and he aims to keep it.

Carlo leaves a half hour after the others do. While the boys say they love their wives and do anything for them, not to mention the other broads they meet, Carlo adores his wife Cat. He doesn't need or want anything from other women, he respects Cat enough in that way. They shake hands and he is gone. Charlie stays awake another half hour after that, the festering rage from this weekend keeps him awake, as he plans Marazano's downfall.

* * *

><p>'What is this, eh? What is this?'<p>

'Well, using my powers of deduction I'd say it's a mobile ringing.' The rest of the words fail to leave her mouth as the tall, lanky one backhands her across her mouth.

'Don't get cute, bitch,' He tells her and she shrugs. 'Who's calling, eh? You got friends waiting for you to check in? Who is it?!'

'You know I came here alone. And I don't know, what's the caller ID say?' Rose wonders, spitting the collecting blood out of her mouth. The harshness of the light shining on her has caused her to sweat. The cut on the corner of her cheekbone stings a lot too. Rings, what is it with rings this year?

'You got it listed as C.L. Who is that? Code name? He a partner, what?'

'I love the word partner, so ambiguous.' Rose smiles at them and the two men look to one another before slowly turning their gazes to her. The lanky man grips her shoulders and shakes her a few times. It's so hard that the chair she's tied to rocks back a few times.

'So you agree, he's your partner.' The stout one wonders and Rose peers around the lanky one and smiles. The Ukrainian accent is still thick on this one that she's had to repeat his statement a few times in her head.

'Not in the work sense no, you gonna answer that?' Rose gestures to the mobile and the stout one grumbles as he slides his finger cross the screen and puts it on speaker phone.

'You have one minute; we can see what the outcome will be. They may be collecting your corpse.' The stout one tells her and Rose scoffs, rolling her eyes.

'Not bloody likely,' Rose mutters. She clears her throat. 'Hello?'

_'Rose?'_

Rose closes her eyes, what a time for him to call her. Means he's back from Ithaca and is in her suite, wondering where she is. She's gotta pretend like this is a normal conversation and not happening in 1931. Okay, how does someone's girlfriend act in this day and age? She clears her throat.

'Charlie? Hey baby, how was your trip?'

There's a pause. _'You sound really far away.'_

'Sorry, could be a bad connection where I'm at, I'm close to a tunnel.' That much is true, hopefully he'll think of a pay phone immediately. She feels her heart rate increasing.

_'My trip was fucking horrible.'_

'I'm sorry, you'll tell me all about it tomorrow when I'm back?' Rose wonders, feeling a line of sweat run down her temple and chest. The stout one snaps his fingers telling her to hurry it up.

_'You're back tomorrow? What happened to tonight?'_

Rose glares at the two men still standing in front of her but decides to have a little fun nonetheless. 'I ran into some old friends in California. We had a late dinner so I should be able to be in the city by late afternoon tomorrow.'

_'Time?'_

'3, 3:30. They think I'm going to spend all day with them but I don't have that kinda time. I'll be leaving shortly.'

_'Come to the Waldorf. Wait for me there.'_

Rose doesn't answer because the man has backhanded her again because of her comment about leaving. She glares at him. 'Charlie, can you remember to take my pearl necklace out?'

_'Your…pearl necklace?'_

'Yes, my pearl necklace. I'd like to wear it out tomorrow night. But it needs to be cleaned.' Rose tells him and the lanky man grips her chin, squeezing it tightly. She nearly bites down on his hand but thankfully he releases her.

_'Oh. Yes, the pearl necklace. Where's the store again? Fifth Ave or…'_

'No, no you're right, Fifth.' That'll be sufficient enough time, five minutes. Though perhaps that's a bit ambitious, she'll have to see. She flexes her hand.

_'You're sure?'_

Rose doesn't have a chance to answer him as the stout one has disconnected the call. She glares at him and the stout man places her mobile on the rust eaten drum barrels along with her other things. Funny thing is, they still think she was caught on accident.

'Do we need to pay him a visit since we can't get you to talk?' The lanky one questions and runs his fingers down her arm until his fingers come into contact with her hand. Feels like acid had just been trailing down her skin. She scoffs at him. 'Maybe send him…a token?'

Rose glances down to the knife that hovers above her ring finger. Thank god she took off her ring. Scare tactics have never gone over well on her. 'Good luck trying to find him.'

'Sounds like New York if you ask me.' The stout one is still looking through her phone and it irks her.

'Okay, try.' Rose offers and the lanky one moves the blade from her hand to press against her neck. A small trail of blood trickles down her neck. Before Rose's foot connect with the hand that's holding the knife just as he brings it down to slash off her finger.

Immediately the lanky one looses his grip and the knife floats through the air, landing a few good feet from him. He turns to the knife before lunging at her, however, Rose drives her foot into his shin and he crumples down a bit, rubbing his leg while Rose gets to her feet and spins around, running backward into the lanky one until they collide and go down together. However the lanky one hits his head off the drum barrel and coupled with Rose and her weight in the chair as it lands on him. Hard.

The wind is knocked out of him, the chair splitters all around him and as his body slumps to the side of the barrel, Rose doesn't miss the blood on it. It must have been one hard crack.

The stout one had been shocked from the noise, dropping her mobile and fumbling around for his gun that it gives Rose enough time to stand, shake the ropes off of her and stand directly in his path. By the time he's figured out how to get the safety off, Rose has turned and thrown her elbow into the man's stomach. The gun falls to the floor and the man grips his stomach as he falls to his knees. Rose reaches for the gun he's dropped by his side. He also tries to snatch it away but the wheezing and huffing he's doing now tells her he's got no strength left. He claws feebly at her leg and Rose shakes him off, disengaging the cartridge and checking the mag.

She drops the gun but holds on to the cartridge as she buckles her holster and dons her jacket quickly shoving the cartridge in there while she checks her Icer guns. She pulls one out and aims it at the stout man's arm, he shakes his head and she shrugs a bit.

'Sorry. But you need to sleep,' She pulls the trigger and the glass ball is released exploding upon impact on the man's arm. The blue liquid is absorbed instantly and the man falls unconscious. She shakes her head. She got all the information she needed to acquire. Hopefully the teams are already moving in. She picks up her mobile and redials the last incoming number. 'Charlie?'

_'Rose. It's clearer than before.'_

'Tunnel, sorry.' Rose wipes the blood from her lip once again with the back of her hand. She covers the receiver and spits out the metallic taste.

'That was about eight minutes.' He responds and Rose laughs lightly at him.

'Sorry, again, got stuck with talkers, you know?' Rose uses her sleeves to wipe the blood from her neck and chest. She quickly begins to walk towards the exit. The chase through the wooded area first and then the concrete jungle hadn't been fun. She bends over and lifts the cuff of her pants to expose a nasty friction burn that's worn down until it's bled. She winces.

'I do know, everything's all right? We haven't used that…sentence in so long.'

Rose digs around in her jacket for the key for the rental car and pulls it from her back pocket. She opens the door and slides in. Exhaling deeply while resting her head against the headrest.

'I know. Can I call you when I'm at the train station tomorrow?' Rose wonders and gingerly touches the welt on her cheekbone. She still winces.

_'Do you want me to send someone to get you? Joey'll be around the area tomorrow.'_

'No, thank you, I'll manage.' Rose starts the car and shifts it into first. She slowly lifts her left foot off the clutch and increases pressure from her right foot on the gas. The car rolls along the cracked concrete before the concrete melts away into dirt and gravel. She flicks the headlamps to the brightest setting.

_'With your bags?'_

Rose can hear the humour in Charlie's voice and she shifts into second. 'I'm travelling light.'

_'I'm assuming that's because the majority of your wardrobe is currently sitting on my bedroom floor.'_

'Oh, and mine.' Rose smiles into the car and Charlie laughs a bit. She wishes she was already there but she needs to relay information first. The faster she can get there, the faster she can get back to New York. She's missed him.

She directs the car onto the motorway and exhales quietly; the end goal of being in New York again seems so far away.

_'Will you still come to the Waldorf?'_

'Of course I will,' Rose pauses and grips the steering wheel tighter watching the traffic pass her on the opposite lane. It always takes her a moment to adjust to driving on the right here in North America. 'Charlie? I've missed you.'

_'So have I, this past weekend…fuck, I really needed you.'_

'Stop, you're making me feel guiltier for leaving.' Rose wipes the tears away with the heel of her hand, unsure why she's so emotional this time around. She winces and holds in her expression of pain when she aggravates the cut.

_'Not my intention. I wouldn't have wanted you to hang around waiting for me anyway.'_

'Okay, I'll send a message when I'm in the city.' Rose promises and she hangs up the phone, the goal seems nearly unattainable.

Not to mention the drive back to the meeting point as well. Usually the music will go on, help melt away the hours when she drives but now…all she wants is the silence. A million and one thoughts race through her mind and yet she can't pin one down to resolve first.

* * *

><p>She winces when he carefully grips her chin in his grasp. Clearly the look in his eyes means that it was worse than she originally thought. Even the careful application of makeup hadn't been able to hide it; she was stupid for coming so banged up. But she so badly needed him. The last hour probably hadn't helped either; the sweat has more than likely eroded most of it away.<p>

And Joey had conveniently showed up around the train station anyway. Thankfully, knowing how Charlie thought, she decided to land around there, just in case. Thank god she did. Joey insisted that he happened to be in the area and recalled Charlie mentioning she'd be arriving so he wanted to see if she needed help. Joey is such a smooth liar but she imagines Charlie telling him to see her there. Help her if she needed or give her a drive to the Chelsea should she need to stop there.

He had escorted her to Charlie's suite, given her a tight embrace and told her to just be mindful if he seems touchy or quick to anger. He just wanted her to know that it was nothing she's done but over what'd happened in Ithaca.

She caught up on emails for an hour or two before she hear the door open once again. She had hastily slid the laptop under the bed, ensuring it was closer to her side before she got up and rushed over to meet him.

She had fooled him at first, or maybe it was because he had simply set eyes on her, and that was it. She embraced him fiercely, he lifted her off her feet and she had done one better and wrapped her legs around him. That entire time she doesn't think they broke for air once. He led them to the bedroom while she had worked on unbuttoning the jacket and vest. She had nearly started on his shirt before he had deposited her on the bed. The next hour had been exactly what she craved. That euphoric feeling. Pure bliss.

Rose can feel him moving his hand to wrap around her waist and so she shifts her weight from her knees, to the tops of her thighs. She had been foolish to take the lead on this one. She attempts shift off of him so she isn't straddling him any longer, but Charlie doesn't want that. He keeps her pinned tightly to him, arm around her lower back and waist while she gives him a small smile and places her hand on his chest before kissing him again.

'You know…I know you've said it before, quite insistently, Rose, but your face…the way…whatever's happened…it looks like what the girls would go through when the Johns would get too fresh with them.' Charlie runs his thumb just under the cut on her cheekbone.

She feels small in his embrace. She rests both of her forearms on Charlie's shoulders and he leans back, resting his weight on the left hand he's just moved back.

'It isn't from a bordello, Charlie.'

'I know, but-…'

Rose places her finger on his lips. 'Any bordello, any Borough, from here to Chicago or Philadelphia, no one knows me…it's from work, yes but not from _that_ kind of work.'

'That's perhaps more concerning.' Charlie replies and Rose kisses him.

'Just think, if they managed to do this to me, imagine what I did to them.' Rose offers. Charlie stares at her with a blank expression before he smirks crookedly at her.

'That doesn't make it right, I don't wanna see anyone raise a hand to my girl.' Charlie presses her tighter to him. She knows he wanted to add something along the lines of or they'll feel his wrath but she decides to let it go. Rose kisses him before she pulls away. He still won't let her out of his embrace. Not that she's complaining, of course, she's just hot so she moves her hair off her face and neck. The cool air is relieving. And Charlie seems to like the view as he places both hands on either of her hipbones.

Rose lets her hair fall and kisses Charlie quickly. 'You gonna let me go?' She teases and Charlie weaves his hand into her hair holds on tightly, pulling her hair down to expose her neck, which he lightly kisses. He releases her and Rose smirks at him, gently shoving him back down on the bed, keeping her hand on his chest while she stares down at him with the confident smile still on her face. She slides off him to the ground, stretching.

'That's a good view.' Charlie remarks while he reaches for the cigarette case and box of matches. He brings the flame to the cigarette and inhales deeply.

'Is it? I wouldn't know.' Rose teases and picks up his white dress shirt and slips it on while she heads to the lounge to check her messages. All is still quiet, what a relief. Just Jack wanting to do drinks or dinner or both.

'Then take my word for it.' Charlie replies when she comes back into the bedroom, shedding the shirt and joining him at his side.

'Are you ever going to tell me what happened in Ithaca?' Rose wonders and she can see Charlie become pissed off in a matter of seconds. Oops. Maybe she should have left it until he was ready to tell her. Or it's a sign she needs to stop being nosy.

'Maranzano ended up lying.' Charlie states and places his hand on her knee when she tucks herself closer to him. Rose tilts her head.

'Lying about what? Not about…no, not about _everything_…' Rose covers her mouth and can feel the anger radiating off of him because of it. Okay, so, anger justified then.

'Yeah, all of it. Every fucking word of it. Sure he did a bit of shuffling, every Borough in New York is headed by a boss, essentially and then he went and made himself boss of all bosses.' Charlie informs her and Rose closes her eyes shaking her head. Charlie begins to absently run his hand from her knee to her hip in an attempt to work off the anger.

'The one thing he agrees not to do he goes ahead and does. How does he think that's going to over with everyone?' Rose places her hand on his to stop him from running his hand up and down. Charlie gives her an apologetic look.

'We take it, for now. Let him get comfortable before we make another move. Modernising is the only way we can move forward. No more of this antiquated way of conducting business brought over from Sicily. It doesn't translate here.' Charlie informs her and Rose nods her head. Charlie brings her closer for an ardent kiss. Well, thankfully that mood swing didn't last long.

'So, you're the boss now, yeah?' Rose has a bit of a playful smirk on her face when Charlie pulls away from her. He leans over to put the cigarette in the ashtray.

'I guess you can say that.'

'Well, is it not true?' Rose lets her hand linger on his cheek; another look of impatience crosses his features. She holds her breath just in case.

'Can't really be a boss if I got one above me.' Charlie replies and Rose can see his point.

'I suppose so…' Rose answers and can see him thinking of a solution already. She knows what the solution will be. She tucks herself to his side and kisses his jaw.

'It doesn't matter, at least not right now. That petty territorial war is finished. We can get back to what's important. Worry about the details at another time. Which means…' Charlie ardently kisses her before he pulls away. 'I'll have a lot more time on my hands.'

'Mm, good…' Rose grips his arms tightly as he moves over top of her. A mixed sound of gasping and moaning escape her when Charlie presses his mouth to hers.

She hears that little voice in her head once again. It certainly is nice to have someone to come home to.


	16. Chapter 16: 1931

He really hadn't been lying to her. He had been with her nearly every damned night for a month. She loved it. If he was angry about what transpired in Ithaca the previous month, Charlie had been keeping it to himself. But she knew that he was talking about it with the others.

When they went to dinner with them, she and Cat would get up to excuse themselves only to come back and they would be chatting away in Italian. She could tell by the looks that would briefly flash across Cat's face the direction of the conversation. Plus she heard and understood what bastard was. That word had been tossed around an awful lot.

She would just sit back and wait for the topic of conversation to die down and things shifted back to English. Whether or not they wanted to admit it or not they do still have some exclusionary tendencies, or maybe they just didn't want them to hear everything they were saying. After all it had made Cat nervous judging by her facial expressions.

When Charlie placed his hand on her knee she smiled at him. He hadn't wanted to take her out after the incident in California, instead choosing to stay with her in one of their hotel rooms until the worst of the bruising had passed. She may or may not have helped it along. And they continued on as though things were normal.

And they had been for about a month. May turned into June and Rose had begun to see the familiar pattern starting out again. He had begun to stay out until the late night hours, sometimes all night. Sometimes he would call and other times he wouldn't. She'd just find him in their bed, which ever one, come morning, sometimes he'd still be dressed from the night before. Things are building momentum once again. He'd been keeping things quiet, hardly revealing anything to her on the subject.

She turns up to him, watching the diamond below them carefully. A rare time when he's been available in the afternoon to see her, she's glad. She blew off some meetings she had planned just to spend the afternoon with him. And dinner. He wanted to take her somewhere else she's never been yet with him, the Cotton Club. Now, though, the afternoon is slowly melting away before them. Not surprising, given where they are. She's glad she was finally able to convince him to take her to a baseball game, she's never been before. Ironic, considering all the travel she's done. She shifts her gaze back when she hears the unmistakeable sound of a ball hitting a bat. It makes her think about something she's always wanted to know. The players shift from first to second and from second to third. The ball is tossed back to the pitcher.

She places her hand over his, still bruised and cut from some encounter he hadn't told her about and he shifts his gaze to her. She takes off her sunglasses. 'Can I ask you something?'

'Of course.'

'I only ask out of curiosity and mean no ill will…' Rose adds and Charlie pauses from igniting his cigarette, taking it from his mouth to study her.

'Now you have me worried…' Charlie answers with a smile and Rose merely smiles in return.

'I've just…I mean I guess I'm just curious. Is it true? About the World Series?' Rose wonders and Charlie turns his attention back to the diamond. He doesn't answer. Maybe she hadn't been clear enough. 'I was asking-…'

'I know what you're asking.' Charlie interrupts, there isn't any tone or anger to his voice; it's just flat, lacking emotion. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything at all.

She looks to her hands in her lap.

* * *

><p><em>'It's been a year now. And still this hasn't blown over. What did you say to me a few months ago? Let the shit dry and I can dust it off? Well, it hasn't dried yet.'<em>

_Charlie glances up to see Arnold and his lawyer discussing the events from the World Series last year. Arnold places his folded hands on his desk while the lawyer glances to the paper. The story had been written again, the reason the lawyer was here. They're talking about a possible indictment. _

_'What do you want me to say, Arnold? We need to plan for the worst and hope for the best. I'll do my damnest to make the charges disappear but in the mean time we need to plan for the outcome.'_

_'You want me to wait outside?' Charlie calls from the door and Arnold merely gives him a small smile._

_'No, don't bother, Charlie, this meeting won't be much longer, anyway.'_

_He shrugs and ignites a cigarette; drowning out the moves the lawyer is talking about to carefully watch the expression on Arnold's face. That's the problem with a man who has made his living as a professional gambler; he's incredibly difficult to read. That doesn't mean that Arnold is incapable of feeling, quite the opposite. He's just incredibly composed all the time, calm and Arnold usually able to hold him back from acting stupid. But this…problem that's occurring from the fixing of the World Series in 1919 has taken up a lot of his time and effort. Arnold hasn't placed a bet in months. He says it's because the odds are not in his favour, there is no gamble to take but Charlie wonders if it's simply because his attention has been elsewhere, he hasn't dedicated time to looking. He's looked a prospects but that's all._

_He's shaken from his thoughts when the lawyer is on his way out and claps him on the side of the shoulder. He blinks and gives the man a nod before turning back to Arnold. He motions for him to have a seat and Charlie does so. He hadn't liked the tone Arnold had had on the phone. Meyer couldn't make the summons to Arnold's office. Which worried him even more._

_'So, how's things-…' Charlie begins before Arnold interrupts him._

_'Do you know who I supper with last night?' Arnold wonders and leans back in his chair. Charlie looks around waiting for Arnold to answer his own obviously rhetorical question._

_'How the fuck should I know?'_

_'Joe Masseria, I believe you know him.' Arnold states firmly and Charlie gets to his feet pacing off the anger and disbelief._

_'You had dinner with that prick?' _

_'He seems a bit…concerned about a certain gambling operation you and Meyer are running in his territory.' Arnold answers simply and Charlie sits again. Arnold watches the anger fester close to the surface and Charlie gets up again, pacing._

_'Those territory lines are grey to begin with.' Charlie informs him quickly from his place by the window and Arnold motions for him to sit again. Charlie reluctantly does so._

_'It doesn't matter, two of his men were robbed after they left your gambling operation.' Arnold watches Charlie shrug absently._

_'And? How the fuck is that my problem?' _

_'One of the men was stabbed. An attempted murder, robbery…he's not a happy man, Charlie.' Arnold informs him seriously and Charlie folds his arms. Arnold can see him trying to work out an answer but is struggling. He can also see the concern written in Charlie's eyes. Good. He should be worried. _

_'I'm not responsible for what happens to people after they leave, Arnold.'_

_'You should be when those men are associated with the territory boss, Charlie,' Arnold informs him and he gets up to stand by the window, watching the traffic along the streets. Charlie watches from his seated position. He lights up another cigarette to ease his growing anger. 'Mr Masseria found out that the two of you are associates of mine and demanded I attend dinner with him to reach a conclusion about this unfortunate series of events.'_

_'And?' Charlie wonders. Arnold turns back to him and folds his arms before directing his gaze back to the window. _

_'You are to give Masseria one thousand dollars to cover the robbery and stabbing. Meyer too,' Arnold begins and Charlie gets up to begin protesting but Arnold silences him with a look. 'You are then to give him twenty percent of whatever you make here on in. A token of peace.'_

_'Fuck that! Twenty percent?! We give you thirty, Arnold!' Charlie nearly throws something but then decides against it when Arnold begins to walk towards him. His steely façade causes him to stop. He takes deep breaths to steady himself._

_'Think of this as a lesson Charlie,' Arnold informs him and Charlie has to stop himself from saying he shouldn't. Arnold notices the short breaths Charlie is taking to settle that explosive temper of his. 'When I was at dinner, do you know what I had?'_

_'No.'_

_'Tripe. But I ate it anyway. Even though it's forbidden. Do you know why?' _

_'No.'_

_'To keep the peace. Some things you don't have control over, Charlie. You just have to take it. Actions have consequences. Do you understand?' _

_Charlie struggles for words. 'Yes.' It comes out as strained._

_'Good,' Arnold gives Charlie a small, tight smile. Arnold walks back to his desk and Charlie takes that as his signal to leave. 'Oh, Charlie? Mr Masseria expects the money by the end of the week. He wants you personally to give him the money.'_

_'Why me?'_

_'Unfortunately, Mr Masseria doesn't share the same…inclusionary vision that you and I have. That was very clear. It's a very delicate peace, Charlie. Please remember that.' Arnold replies and sits down at his desk. He picks up the paper left by the lawyer and begins to read it. Charlie rolls his eyes and heads for the door, pausing to turn back to look at Arnold._

_'You'll beat this, won't you, Arnold?' Charlie wonders and Arnold glances up to him from over the top of the paper before folding it in half and setting it back on his desk. _

_'The odds are stacked against me, Charlie. I am uncertain of the outcome.' _

_Charlie opens the door and begins to walk out when he halts briefly once more. 'No one likes those odds more than a gambler.' _

_He walks out and shuts the door, not staying around long enough to see the smirk on Arnold's face widen. He's finally starting to get it._

* * *

><p>'You aren't going to tell me, are you?' Rose wonders. Her face is stoic before a small smile breaks out. Charlie finally ignites the cigarette and exhales turning back to Rose.<p>

'No.' Charlie replies simply, recalling the morning he had read the newspaper after Arnold had left for Chicago declaring that he wasn't going to be indicted. He'd never felt relief like that before.

Rose leans in to him, kissing him lightly. 'Can I use my imagination?'

'Whatever you want to do.' Charlie answers and puts his arm around her. Let the past lie. That's what Arnold used to tell him. Those first few years after Prohibition was first enacted were tumultuous times for everyone. Everyone struggling to get a foothold on how to conduct rum running like a business, those that didn't figure it out in the first couple of months failed. He doesn't think he's ever travelled so much back then. The other Boroughs, Chicago, Atlantic City, Jersey City, Hoboken, Philadelphia the list when on. Establishing the contact base and cultivating ties already made took patience and acumen. Not to mention financing, protection and transportation. It's a wonder they managed to make it.

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…to bring anything up.' Rose tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear and stares ahead as the first baseman throws the ball to second. The runner dives but the second baseman catches it and tags the runner. The umpire makes a fist and the runner jogs off to the dugout.

Charlie absently shrugs. 'I know. I just…it's in the past, no sense bringing it up. It won't serve a purpose anyway.'

'I understand.'

Rose twists the band of her sapphire ring she started wearing again around and around while she thinks. Charlie absently rubs her shoulder and she turns into him. So he isn't upset with her inquisition but then again he hadn't answered her. She just…wanted to see what things were like for him back then. Young and ambitious…is that so wrong?

Charlie must have caught her twisting her ring and places his hand on hers and so she looks up to him. He draws her closer to kiss her before they both fall silent absently concentrating on attempting to focus on watching the Yankees continue to win against the Black Sox. She thinks about how things were for him. How things went for him when Arnold was murdered and how he coped. While Charlie feels a small ache of sadness for a friend lost to him.

More than a friend. A mentor.

* * *

><p>This is not a place she feels comfortable in. God no. Rose studies the whatever that's called on the walls, racially charged imagery seems appropriate. There is exotic jungle scenes painted on the walls, plantations found in the South…and she has to stop looking because it makes her angrier. She bites her lip and continues to wander around the establishment looking for the man Charlie wanted to speak to but who never made time for him. They had grievances to work out.<p>

The Cotton Club formally Club Deluxe, purchased by Owney Madden whilst in prison and renamed it's current moniker. Charlie wanted to take her there because Lena Horne is performing here tonight and thought for sure she'd enjoy it. He just failed to mention how racist this place is, a white only venue, despite booking prominent black performers, like Duke Ellington and Louis Armstrong. The cover had been outrageous.

Still…this place is immensely uncomfortable, none of the performers, dancers, singers were allowed to mix with the crowds. Madden didn't like it. And Rose saw the common theme amongst the chorus girls, they were tall, taller than her, fairer skinned and young. Very young. She managed to overhear in her skulking around that the performers, when finished, had to immediately leave, so as not be tempted to interact with Madden's clientele. They went next door, 646 Lenox, in the basement of the superintendent. To have another kind of party she assumed. Probably a lot more fun. She notices she must have crossed the threshold line. There are more performers than clientele on this side of the club.

She turns over her shoulder to spy Charlie still by the bar as another man approaches him. She frowns and continues on her way. Maybe after she locates this elusive Madden they can leave. She needs inclusion.

'Charlie, what are you doing here?'

'Ben? The hell does it look like?' Charlie shakes Ben's hand and Ben shrugs absently.

'You too, huh? Where's the dame?'

'Madden's here. She elected to see if she could find him.' Charlie replies and raises his glass to the bartender. He sets the glass down.

'Good, we gonna talk about the territory issue we've been having?' Ben wonders and Charlie offers him a cigarette. Ben takes one as he pulls out his lighter. He ignites Charlie's cigarette first.

'I'm gonna try. We can see if we can't get the lines more definitive.' Charlie answers and Ben turns around and notices two people draw closer to them. Ben recognises them both, Charlie's girl dressed in a stunning red dress and Madden.

He also doesn't fail to notice Madden has his arm around Rose's middle. And yet he rests his hand on her ribs. It's a very bold move. Ben looks up to Charlie to see that he's noticed it as well. He remains silent and Ben finishes his drink in a large gulp.

'Well, I'm taking off.'

'What's the rush? You don't want to be around for this?' Charlie wonders and Ben shakes his head quickly.

'Nah, Owney and I…had a bit of an incident last year,' Ben admits and Charlie turns to him with his eyebrow arched. He takes a drink. 'Sorta caught me…messing around with…Katie.'

'His wife? For fuck sake, Ben.' Charlie rolls his eyes and Ben shrugs.

'Wasn't his wife yet. But to save everyone the fight that's sure to break out. I'll take off, let me know what happens.' Ben replies and Charlie taps the ash into the ashtray.

'Yeah, yeah…' Charlie trails off and mutters something in Italian. Ben frowns at him.

'Just because I don't speak Italian, like Meyer does, doesn't mean I don't know what stupido means.' Ben informs him and adds another something in Hebrew.

Charlie merely smirks. 'And I know what fucking bastard is in Hebrew, too, you prick.'

'Good, so fuck you, and I'll talk to you soon,' Ben answers and shakes Charlie's hand before heading towards the exit. He pauses and turns around. 'Say hi to the dame for me.'

'If you stuck around long enough you could introduce yourself.' Charlie calls to him and Ben shrugs once more and he puts his hat on.

'Maybe another time!'

The crowds swallow him up just as Rose approaches him with Madden. Charlie can't take his eye off the fact that Owney has his arm around Rose, although it's higher up, resting on her ribs than actual hip or waist it still bothers him slightly. Rose subtly sends him a look that tells him to wait and go along with what's about to happen. He's unsure if that's good or bad. Still, Owney seems in a good mood, hopefully this conversation won't change that.

Rose approaches him first and smiles up at him while she holds her arm out and motions to Owney. Owney offers his hand and Charlie shakes it.

'You never mentioned that you were with him, Rose.' Owney takes a drink from the glass he's brought with him and Rose arches her eyebrow.

'I said I had someone important I wanted you to meet.' She counters and Charlie frowns quickly wondering if he's misheard her. Her accent doesn't sound the natural one he'd met her with, the London one, as she called it, now it sounds more like Owney's.

'So I see. Charlie, you never mentioned your girl was from Yorkshire.'

Charlie opens his mouth to contest his words when Rose wraps her arm around him and gives him a tight squeeze. She took the lead from him for sure. 'Well, that's a mistake I won't over look again.'

'She's been a delightful memory of home.'

'Owney and I had houses not that far from one another.' Rose relates and Charlie gives her a funny look before he smirks.

'In Yorkshire?' He questions Rose and she gives him a sideways look before she smiles and nods.

'That's right. Leeds.'

'You're a difficult man to get in touch with, Owney.' Charlie informs him and Owney downs the rest of his drink, and shrugs, walking by Charlie and Rose to the bar where he signals the bartender and he turns over to Charlie.

'Another refill, mate?'

Charlie hands him his glass and nods. 'Thanks,' He turns to Rose and pulls her closer so he can whisper in her ear. 'Yorkshire? What's going on?'

Rose gives him a hasty kiss while Owney continues to talk to the bartender. 'He's from the North, back home. So, I made him feel comfortable talking to someone who knows the area.' She replies and Charlie notices she's begun to use her natural accent again.

'You're from London.'

'Doesn't mean I've never been to Yorkshire before. Near death experience there once. It'll always hold a special place in my heart.' Rose recalls and nudges him when she notices that Owney has returned with three glasses. He passes one to Charlie and then to Rose.

'Couldn't let the lady stand there without a drink in her hand.' Owney says and Rose holds her glass up to them.

'Cheers.'

Everyone takes a quick drink while Rose surveys the area. Adelaide is supposed to be singing here tonight. She thought she'd stop by to see Adelaide in the dressing room before she went on. Then afterwards, when they leave, she'll have to tell Charlie to promise never to take her here again. She can't handle this much blatant racism in one room, the period or not it isn't right and she's amazed she's lasted this long without flying off the handle at someone.

'So, you wanted to speak with me about some territorial complaints.' Owney opens with and leans against the bar. Rose exchanges uncomfortable views with Rose who then lowers her look to her glass.

'That and the fact that suddenly one of your men has a problem with storing liquor for Italians?' Charlie wonders and swishes the rest of the liquid in his glass. Owney downs his again and signals the bartender for another refill.

'Blame that one on the war you have going on,' Owney answers, and ignites a cigarette offering one to Charlie who declines and then to Rose who shakes her head. 'Thomas Kyteller, man who watches over the warehouse in question, nephew was a bystander on of the daylight attacks. Harbours a bit of a grudge now.'

'War's over.' Charlie states plainly.

'Says who?'

'Maranzano.'

'We'll see how long that lasts,' Owney stubs the cigarette out in the jade colour ashtray and Charlie looks to Rose. She's about to say something when Owney beats her to it. 'But, we can talk. Do you have time now?'

Charlie glances to Rose and she smiles, taking that are her signal to leave. 'I'll see if I can find Adelaide. You two play nice.'

They watch her disappear into the crowds. That accent she puts on, it doesn't suit her, at least not to him. But she thought on her feet and used something common to breech the gap. Owney would trust her because she put on the front that she was from Yorkshire. In turn Rose brought Owney to him hoping he'd keep an open mind. So far so good. He honestly had no idea that Owney wasn't Irish. Discovering he's actually English is an interesting notion. And with Rose able to alter her own accent is intriguing. They can discuss that more in depth later. Charlie watches Rose brush by a small crowd and notices a man, drunk no doubt attempt to put his hand on her. She quickly shuts him down and continues on her way. He begins to pay attention to what Owney is saying.

'The territory lines as I remember them, fell in and around…'

Rose watches the two of them from the opposite side of the room. Charlie seems to be paying half attention to what is being said. She continues to wander through the back half of the Cotton Club trying to see if she can spot Adelaide from where she is, but the smoke is thick and makes visibility hazy. Why in the world would she want to perform here? It just frustrates her…but then again…she has to remind herself this is 1931, what more could she expect? The subtle racism that isn't really subtle. And it just isn't okay.

The music has started to give her a slight headache and so she reaches up to the hairpin she's used to sweep her hair up hastily from earlier in the night and pulls it out. She slides it into her sleeve, which she is thankful, is rather tight. She runs her hands through her hair and closes her eyes. She suddenly feels exhausted. But this is the first night they've had together in awhile. She wants to enjoy it, course, Charlie always manages to find work when they're out, intentional or not.

She glances back to where he and Owney are still conversing. It looks as though it's friendly enough, Owney is taking a more relaxed position than Charlie is, leaning against the bar while Charlie stands just off to the side, most likely to ensure that Owney can see everything before him. Rose accidently bumps into someone.

'Excuse me miss, but are you lost?' The man turns around, dressed in serving attire. He seems concerned; worry is evident in his eyes. She knows he's afraid that she could do something. Get him in trouble. She smiles and shakes her head.

'No, actually I was looking for Adelaide. Do you know where she is?' Rose wonders and watches the man give her a careful once over before seeming to decide it was okay, that she is trustworthy. Of course she understands his hesitation.

'Through this door here, miss, if you take it and then the second on the left it will lead you to the dressing rooms. Adelaide is in number three.'

'Thank you.'

'Just…don't mind the reactions. Folks down there ain't used to seeing kindness.' The man warns her and Rose stops and turns, but the man has hurried towards a group of people that have signalled him. She closes her mouth and walks through the door.

The narrow hall is crammed with people, beautiful women in their costumes, the men straightening their ties, they all pause when they notice her standing there. Many of them drop their looks to their feet and Rose instantly feels ashamed, ashamed for encroaching on their space. She feels her cheeks burn from embarrassment and she struggles to find words.

'Are you lost, miss?' One woman wonders and Rose shakes her head.

'I'm looking for Adelaide Adams?'

A crash is heard followed by something breaking and cries for help. Rose rushes down the hall and prays it isn't coming from room number four. But it is. The people that had been behind her rally with her as well and she throws the door open. She can feel everyone behind her as they watch in horror at what's happening.

The man turns to them and frowns. 'You mind? I'm in the middle of something.'

Rose sees fresh tears stream down Adelaide's face. The long, light blue satin dress she has on has been torn at the straps and it is pushed very far up her legs, the hem nearly rests at her hips. The man has her wrists pinned against the wall above her head while the man has clearly been using his free hand to do something he shouldn't. It incenses her further because he's white and she's certain that had she not come through that door, Adelaide would be a victim without a voice.

'I can see that,' Rose answers and the man releases Adelaide's wrists to turn and face Rose entirely. She nearly gags from the putrid smell of alcohol coming off of him. Rose holds her arm out. 'Adelaide, come here.'

Adelaide rushes towards Rose's embrace she inspects her carefully. A small cut on her lip, but that will heal. Other than being traumatised she seems okay. Rose keeps her tucked tightly to her side and continues to glare at the man while he buttons up his pants and turns to face them. He sways a bit and Rose passes Adelaide off to those behind her. They cradle her.

'What's your problem anyway? I was just telling her that I admire her voice. Don't I, sweetheart?' The man slurs his words and Rose walks towards him.

'Think you were using the wrong head to tell her that.'

'You're quite vulgar. That doesn't become you. Becomes no woman.' The man replies and points to Rose, he doesn't stand straight. Rose folds her arms and tilts her head.

'This can go one of two ways. I can make you leave, but you won't like that option or two you can leave and no questions asked. I don't ever want to see your face around here again. That last part pertains to both options, so choose wisely.'

The man doesn't answer her because a new voice interrupts them. 'What the hell is going on here? Why are you all standing around? We have a show to put on in fifteen minutes.'

Rose turns around to see a man, possibly the manager, as he is dressed smartly and with a terrified and yet angry stare on his face. But he's nervous, Rose looks at the way he wrings his hands, with big clientele the pressure has intensified to put on one good show after another. That won't stop her from drawing attention this.

'They're standing around because you can't keep control of your drunk clientele when they attempt to assault your performers.' Rose points to the drunk man still swaying as he looks from Rose to the manager.

'I beg your pardon?'

'This man, right here, assaulted one of your performers. Thankfully I interrupted him before he got any further.'

The manager looks to the one and only girl in tears, held by other girls. Indeed something must have happened because her dress is torn, there is a cut on her lip. Looking the way she is now, haggard, there is no way she can perform. Great. This is perfect. He looks to the woman in the red dress, livid and yet he hasn't an idea why. What he should inquire is why the hell she's back here in the first place. She doesn't belong here. He stares hard at the blonde and she stares back at him with just the same intensity. She then arches her eyebrow, daring him to do something.

The manager looks back to the girl, Adelaide he believes her name is and then back to the drunk man who squints to make sure he can still see. 'Sir, we are flattered that you wished to praise our young Adelaide. She is a star that is on the rise. She is grateful for your affections.'

The drunk man smiles at Rose and points to the manager. 'See, he knows what I'm trying to do. Gotta show the pretty girl how much I like her.'

Rose feels as though she could scream in frustration and she marches towards the drunk man and he gives her a satisfied smile. Rose draws her hand back and slaps the man so hard across his face he stumbles back, nearly losing his footing. She grabs him by the front of his shirt and pulls him towards her.

'You're lucky there are people here, or else I'd make you pay,' She grits her teeth in rage and then turns her gaze on the manger. He holds his ground but Rose can see he swallows nervously. 'And you. You're disgusting. Aiding in this awful behaviour. I've a mind to…Adelaide, come here. We're leaving,' She walks by the manager as she reaches for Adelaide but pauses and claps the manager on the shoulder when she passes him. 'Don't worry, I'll spread the word among the performers.'

The manager widens his eyes and chases Rose out into the hall where she's escorting Adelaide out. She continues to clutch at Rose, terrified. 'You wouldn't!'

'Then deal with it before I do.' Rose brushes by him and leads Adelaide out of the dressing room and into the tight hall. People immediately clear a path to the door.

She takes Adelaide back the way she came and as she's about to open the door to the main room, Adelaide puts her hand on Rose.

'No, please, not the front.' She whispers and Rose embraces her tightly.

'You have nothing to worry about. I'm right here with you. It's the quickest way to Lenox.' Rose reminds her and Adelaide keeps her gaze locked firmly with the ground. She nods meekly.

When they open the door, Rose doesn't see Charlie or Owney at all in the crowds when she does a quick scan. More than likely for the better, she doesn't want him involved in something trivial as this. Leave him to his business, whatever that may be. She can handle escorting Adelaide to the safety of Lenox. There she can be with people who will take care of her. Maybe even let her stay with Adelaide as well.

They make a quick break for the main entrance, Adelaide has her hand tightly in Rose's and they manoeuvre around the guests, avoiding waiters with trays and the men poised around the perimeter of the club to keep the patrons in line, should anything happen. However this is a sophisticated place and the patrons wealthy, so they usually cause no ruckus. Adelaide keeps Rose's hand clutched tightly that she nearly loses feeling in it but dares not let go. Adelaide keeps her stare locked with the ground as whispers from those around them begin to swirl. Rose keeps her pace brisk.

They come out onto the street, shiny from the rainfall that only must have passed them. Rose looks around the street and Adelaide points in the direction they need to go and Rose nods, walking the next block and Adelaide stops her. Rose frowns. She can see the address marked on the building that is in front of them but Adelaide keeps her at the street corner intersection.

'Please, I can manage now, Rose,' Adelaide turns to give her a damaged smile. Rose brushes the hair off of her face and grips her hand tightly. 'Thank you…for what you did. For defending me…no one else would have. From stopping him get any closer…thank you.'

'Let me go with you, just in case…' Rose responds and Adelaide steals a glance over to the building. She shakes her head and embraces Rose tightly.

'I'll be okay. Folks there could get nervous if they see you poking around, even if it's to help me. It's just…the way things are. They're suspicious of kind gestures and sympathetic behaviours.' Adelaide explains when she sees Rose's look become crestfallen.

Rose reluctantly drops Adelaide's hand. 'I understand…but please, when you're working next, come to my room. I just want to make sure you're okay. And if you need to talk…please…'

'I will…thank you…' Adelaide sneaks in one final hug from Rose before she turns to walk along the street, heading towards the building. Rose holds her breath for a moment before she turns on her heel and begins to head back to the Cotton Club. She feels like going home. She just…isn't sure what she needs right now. Rose doesn't notice that Adelaide has paused in her step to observe Rose; wanting to make sure she gets back into the Club safely.

Rose passes by the mouth of an alley, close to the club, and misses the figure looming in the background, smoking deeply from a cigarette. She moves right by him but the man lunges forward and grabs a fistful of her hair. Rose gasps and reaches for the grip that currently holds her, clawing at the hands. It doesn't seem to do anything. She rolls her eyes and crouches down to make it more difficult and she attempts to tug her hair free.

She is dragged into the alleyway where the smell of alcohol is strong. She is able to lift her gaze to meet the one of the man holding her. She stares at him and then sighs. The man from the dressing room. At least they got him to leave.

The man pulls her to her feet and Rose glares at him, tugging her hair free. 'Well, nice to meet you again.'

The man grips her arms tightly and pins her against the wall. 'You made them throw me out.'

Rose crinkles her nose as the strong smell of alcohol hits her in the face. She turns her head to the side. 'I think you did that to yourself. You should have left her alone and gone home, you're clearly intoxicated and a problem.'

The man squeezes her arm tightly and Rose winces slightly from the pain. He's got a strong grip. 'You should have minded your own business, didn't concern you.'

Rose notices that he's been eyeing her neck and she attempts break free of his grip. 'You were about to rape my friend, that did concern me.' Rose answers seriously and the man lowers himself closer to her. Rose holds her breath.

'Why do you care? Most white folk would never care about what would happen to someone like her.'

'I'm not like most white folk,' Rose seethes and struggles harder. The man throws his weight into his grip and Rose sighs in defeat. She decides to try another angle. 'Listen to me, the man I'm here with, he's dangerous. So please, let me go and that'll be the end of it.'

'You think that's supposed to scare me? I'm a dangerous man.' The man's sentence is hard to make out because of how slurred his words have become.

Rose laughs ironically. 'I'd hate for something to happen to you because you're an idiot. So please, before he comes out here looking for me and things escalade.' She begins squirming in his grip.

The man pushes her back into the wall hard to stop her from fidgeting. Rose hits her head on the brick wall and force with which he shoved her back with causes her to see spots on her vision. She feels dizzy and tries blinking several times to clear her vision, however every time she does more spots simply appear.

'That doesn't scare me,' He replies and glances over his shoulder when a few people pass through the mouth of the alley. He turns back to Rose when they are out of sight. 'I just wanted to show that girl how much I liked her.'

'You were doing that the wrong way.' Rose answers and the man finally lets go of her arms. She is about to rub them to get the feeling back in them when the man brings his hands to her neck in a flourish. It takes her off guard that she is slow to respond.

'I've already been warned about doing that, told me to stop but they kept letting me in, you see, cause I'm good friends with the cop Owney pays to look the other way. I got free reign but then _they_ started complaining that I was getting too fresh with those girls and one more complaint and I'm gone. Gone! Do you know what that implies?! Course you do, you're a well spoken broad. Means they'll kill me! I know it! That ain't gonna happen, you see, because I've got a plan to keep me safe, keep me coming here.

'So, after I finish with you, Ms Witness, I'm gonna take care of that girl.' The man informs her and Rose feels the pressure increase on her windpipe, she can't seem to push him off and struggles harder, gritting her teeth. She bangs her elbows into the man's forearms but it doesn't weaken his grip on her.

Rose widens her eyes when she sees Adelaide come rushing up to the man's left side and begin pulling on his arm as well, throwing her fist into his arm and then grabbing his wrist to attempt to yank him off of Rose. She can feel her lungs expand with the air she's been holding but she can't expel it. She reaches for the man's shirt to claw at him some more. She can't even summon the strength to get her legs involved and he's got a rather long reach to begin with. Her vision becomes blurry from the tears. Her mind becomes aware that her movements are starting to become delayed. She wants to panic but she doesn't. She panics, more energy will be used and that isn't good. She attempts to collect her thoughts, which she is aware are becoming random and hard to gather, so she can plan a way out of this mess.

The man must have had enough of Adelaide's interference because he knocks her to the ground and shouts at her, calling her names and threatening her life. Rose resolves to fight harder because no woman should be called what the man is shouting at her. Rose watches Adelaide get to her feet and rush back out the alleyway and around the corner. She's glad Adelaide came to her senses and gone to seek safety. Let her deal with this creep on her own. Which sadly isn't going well.

Adelaide rushes around the back of the Cotton Club, through the side door that leads to the stage, and pushes open the left door. She bounds by the performers, the band, everyone is stunned when the see her go by, pressing themselves to the walls of the narrow hall. The waiters throw up their hands to keep their trays from being knocked over by Adelaide's haste; she doesn't miss the murmurs of those behind her, questioning her actions.

She skips the steps up the staircase and throws open the door that leads to the club floor. She inhales deeply and stands on her toes; trying to spot the man she had seen Rose with before. Or even the club owner, he'd put a stop to this, she's certain. A patron of his is in distress and she's white. He _has_ to do something.

She finally spots the man she'd seen Rose with in the suite with, and in the lobby several times before, in a corner directly across the floor from her. The owner is there too, perfect; she begins to rush towards them. She side steps to avoid the people in her way that are dancing, oblivious to the fact that mere steps from them a woman is getting the life choked out of her. She's so focused on reaching the two men that are yards from her she accidently bumps into a man and he spins around. He begins to lecture her about poise and etiquette, but Adelaide is already leaving him behind. He shouts obscene things to her. Nothing she hasn't heard before and it won't be the last time she'll hear them, either but she puts it behind her.

The conversation between the two men is hushed but the owner, Owney, he notices her first and stops talking and frowns as he stares at her. It causes the second man to turn around; the one Rose is always with. The dangerous one. Adelaide inhales deeply and all of her words come tumbling out in rapid haste.

'Mr Madden, outside, please, the man, you have to come…now, now!' Adelaide begins to turn back around to lead them on but Owney calls to her.

'What the hell are you talking about?'

'There's no time to explain, Mr Madden, there's trouble outside!' Adelaide insists and it causes the second man to step in front of her as he gives her a careful once over.

'I've seen you before, Abigail?'

'Adelaide. Sir, both of you must come right away! She's going to get the life choked out of her!' Adelaide cries out and rushes towards the door. Owney and Charlie exchange concerned looks and Owney darts to where Adelaide has made it halfway across the floor and he reaches to grab her arm, Charlie isn't far behind them growing more concerned. Where is Rose? She was supposed to be looking for Adelaide.

'Slow down, girl, who's getting the life choked out of them? How? What's happened to your dress?' Owney questions and Adelaide stops, turning fully around to look at both of them but it's Charlie she has her concerned gaze fallen upon. It makes him uncomfortable and tells him what he's certain he already knows. All Adelaide has to do is say it to make it seem real.

'It's Rose, sir. He's hurting her because she tried to help me.' Adelaide doesn't get the words out of her mouth entirely before Charlie has rushed by them both and out the front door, Owney and Adelaide not far behind them.

Charlie pauses outside and listens but all he can hear is the rabble from the people waiting to get in to the Club and traffic driving by. No sign of Rose. A short cry of pain is heard from the alleyway to the left and Charlie reaches in to his jacket pocket and pulls out the gun.

A man stumbles out of the alleyway and Charlie raises the gun but pauses, lowering it when he notices that the man has something sticking out of his chest, close to his shoulder. He's staring at it in disbelief before he raises his stunned look to something in the alleyway.

'Fucking stabbed me?! The fuck is wrong with you?'

Charlie raises the gun when a shadow moves across the opposite building wall and a figure uneasily strides from the alleyway. He's relieved to see it's Rose, looking rather dishevelled in an unpleasant way so he lowers it only slightly, directing the barrel to the man who is still staring at whatever Rose had used to stab him. She pauses in front of the man and glares at him. Charlie takes a few tentative steps forward; curiosity peaked as to what she'll do.

'You'll see, I'll get the cops involved on this, don't think I won't!' The man shouts at her and Rose folds her arms, waiting for him to go on. Seeing as how this broad isn't scared by threats, he opens his mouth and Rose punches him square in the throat before he has a chance to utter anything else. The man splutters and coughs multiple times, gasping and choking for air, wheezing as he inhales. It's oddly satisfying knowing that Rose did that. She draws her fist back and shakes it out a few times.

'Good luck with that.' Rose informs him and Charlie can hear the strain placed on her voice as well. She reaches for the man who attempts to get away but she holds him in place while she removes the hairpin from where she stuck it in him. She looks at it carefully and wipes it on the shoulder of the man's jacket and tucking it back into her sleeve.

She pauses and rests her hand on the wall of the club and presses her hand to her forehead fighting off a dizzy spell. She hears the sound of a gun being engaged and she opens her eyes, shifting her gaze to where she knows who's there.

'Care to tell me what happened before I pull this trigger?' Charlie wonders and Rose weakly pushes herself off the wall. She notices Owney and Adelaide have arrived, staring at scene unfolding before them. Rose can see Owney has his own gun drawn just in case and Adelaide covers her mouth in horror and then closes her eyes, fully expecting to hear the gun go off and that man's brains be deposited on the opposite wall and sidewalk.

Rose puts her hand on Charlie's forearm and shakes her head. 'Enough of a scene has been caused already by me. Let's not make another.'

Charlie lifts his gaze to her and the first thing that jumps out at him is the violent shades of bruises that show precisely where the man grabbed her. His fingers prints, burned into her flesh, the omission of guilt speaks louder than any words ever could.

Charlie straightens up and brushes a few messy strands of hair from her face. Her broken voice near demands he rectify this mess. However she asked him to stop and so he puts the safety back on the gun and glaring at Rose, angry that she's making him stop, he puts the gun back into his jacket. He turns to Owney.

'This your man?'

'I know him, yeah, friend of a cop I pay to keep his head turned the other way.' Owney responds and Charlie takes off his jacket putting it over Rose's shoulders, and Adelaide looks between the three of them, relieved that nothing has happened to the man still on his knees wheezing for air. Even though he attempted to hurt her, she didn't want him to die.

'Has he always caused this much trouble?' Charlie glances back the man very satisfied that he's in obvious pain, he holds Rose's hand up to check and see and sure enough her knuckles are red, those will likely bruise as well.

'More trouble than he's worth. He comes in here like he owns it, causes trouble, I try to discipline him and he whines all the way to the cop, cop threatens blackmail. You know the story.' Owney answers dismissively and Charlie struggles to remain civil to him.

'Then threaten blackmail back. He's on your payroll, Owney, not the other way around,' Charlie informs him and Owney flicks the cigarette he'd been smoking into the street. Eight years separate them and Owney hasn't realised this? How's he survived this long? He notices that Rose has been staring at her feet and he rubs her back. 'You all right?'

'Just dizzy.' She whispers and sighs in frustration. Obviously agitated that she can no longer talk. Charlie points to the man on the ground still enraged.

'And him?'

Owney looks from Charlie, to Adelaide, to Rose and exhales slowly. 'I'll take care of it.'

Charlie nods and motions Adelaide to come forward, she reluctantly does so. 'Good. I'll be in touch.'

Rose feels comforted when Charlie puts his arm around her shoulders and leads her away from the scene in the street. She takes Adelaide's hand and she grasps it tightly, swallowing nervously. 'Charlie, we need to take Adelaide to Lenox.'

Charlie frowns, unsure of what she's said. 'I'm sorry?'

Rose winces as she presses her fingers to her throat, hoping that the pressure would make enough of a difference that she can be heard. 'Adelaide needs to go to Lenox,'

Charlie doesn't have time to answer her when Rose widens her eyes and notices Owney dragging the man to the alleyway. She attempts to stop and shout out for him to stop but Charlie keeps her forward and Owney disappears around the corner. Silence and then a single gunshot rings out. Owney emerges from the alleyway alone and heads back into the club. 'Charlie!'

Adelaide covers her mouth but doesn't look back. The shock keeps her looking forward. She attempts to ignore the small part of her that silently cheered for this to happen. She feels relieved.

'What?' Charlie looks over to Rose and she blinks from the shock of what's just unfolded before her. She can only point to the alleyway. 'He took care of it.'

'With your blessing!' Rose's voice cracks and she looks away. 'I said I didn't want more of a scene to unfold because of me.'

'It was a problem Owney had been having for some time, this was the tipping point. So he took care of it.' Charlie explains and continues to head towards Lenox. Adelaide holds Rose's hand tightly as she is eager to put this night behind her and move on. She didn't know mixing around with Rose and this man, Charlie, would be so dangerous. It makes her look at Rose in another light.

Charlie waits for them at the base of the building while Rose walks Adelaide up to the front steps and they pause on the stoop. Rose gives Adelaide a sad smile and rubs her arms, suddenly feeling cold even though Charlie's jacket is on her.

'Alors…ce est transformé en une nuit plutôt intéressant. Je suis désolé.' Rose looks to her feet and Adelaide smiles at her regardless. Adelaide feels terrible about the broken voice that Rose now has because of her.

'Vous ne aviez pas intervenu, je aurais été plus d'ennuis que je me soucie d'imaginer,' Adelaide reminds her and Rose looks up to her with shame still evident in her eyes, she presses her lips together and shakes her head, not believing her words. 'Vous l'avez arrêté de faire quelque chose indicible pour moi. Je suis toujours reconnaissant. Cet homme qui a été…vient de tuer. Même si vous ne voulez pas y croire, il le méritait. Je ne étais pas le premier et je ne aurais pas été le dernier. Je suis heureux qu'il soit parti. Se il vous plaît ne pense pas que je suis cynique pour penser ainsi. Mais vous ne avez pas de causer sa mort. Il avait vu venir, l'homme que vous êtes avec, Charlie…il a raison. Ce fut le point de basculement. Votre homme…il est dangereux, non?'

Rose looks away embarrassed and nods her head a bit. 'Yes…'

'J'ai pensé ainsi. Il n'y a rien comme un homme qui est un gangster, est-il? Je suis sorti une fois, je ne étais pas capable de le traiter. Mais…il est différent, votre homme. Il voulait juste te voir en toute sécurité, Rose. Et tu me as sauvé.' Adelaide explains and Rose smiles a bit at her and Adelaide embraces her tightly. Rose hangs on for an extra moment and Adelaide pulls away slowly.

'It still doesn't make it okay.' Rose answers and Adelaide shrugs her shoulders indifferently, believing entirely that the man had it coming.

'More that is surely to come, Rose,' Adelaide warns and Rose nods her head in understanding. It makes her think. This is not good and makes her question why she's stayed as long as she has. She can't be blind to Charlie's actions. Every time something like this happens it makes her question her morality. 'I'll be back at the hotel on Wednesday. I'll come see you then.'

'Please do…'

Adelaide smiles and nods turning her back to Rose as she heads inside to the safety and security of the Lenox building. Rose waits until the door shuts firmly and Adelaide rushes up the stairs. Rose turns to where Charlie is still waiting for her to come back. She stands there confused. Half of her wishes to simply bid him goodnight and just head back to London, never looking back after that display he showed her. The cold, calculating gangster displayed himself to her then. She wasn't frightened by that, no, she was exasperated. He rarely displays that side of him to her; it's the business side mostly. However she supposes this is business too, just the uglier side.

And yet the other side of her…the side that isn't allowed to have much of a say in this because of how nonsensical the reasoning it to her, the side that uses her lust of him, the want of him, the side of her wants him in her bed every night. That isn't reason enough to simply ignore what's just happened. That he just stood there while someone he knew put a bullet in another man's head. Didn't matter if he deserved it or not, a man died and he didn't do anything to stop it when he very well could have. Told him not to worry about it.

'Rose? Are you coming?' Charlie calls to her after he's ignited a cigarette and Rose continues to linger. If she goes to him, she knows she's condoning that violent side. If she leaves, then she leaves with the knowledge that she drew the line in the sand. And didn't compromise her morals.

She jumps when Charlie places his hand on her cheek and she looks up to him. 'I'm sorry?'

'I was just wondering why you're lingering on the street.' Charlie repeats and puts his arm around her shoulders, steering her down the street. It seems as though he's made her mind up for her. And she isn't resisting. What's wrong with her?

'Oh…just thinking about what Adelaide told me.' She invents, the thought of stopping in her tracks and leaving hasn't even crossed her mind. It's the lust…isn't it? Or maybe the fact that she doesn't want to admit she's failed. Failed herself, failed Charlie…

'Yes, she speaks French?'

'She's from Haiti.' Rose answers simply and Charlie stares down at her. Rose keeps her eyes locked ahead. Charlie can sense the dynamic has drastically changed since Onwey took care of that problem. The man damn near chokes the life out of her and she is upset that he got shot, how does that make sense? It doesn't, at least not to him.

'Are you just…not going to talk to me for the rest of the night?' Charlie wonders. Fighting with Rose makes him uncomfortable. The last time they fought and fought hard it had been about his frustrations that she had been so absent from his life for a few weeks.

She had reminded him that he told her he was fine with her coming and going as she pleased. She didn't like being reminded that she was gone often, that she often preferred to be with him but there was just something about her job that he didn't like. Before that fight they had never raised their voices before, never to one another. And then they had done just that. She has a set of lungs on her, she screamed loudly at him then again so did he. There's several things that he realised came of that fight. Small discoveries. Such as they are both very, very stubborn, each wanting to be right. They have fiery tempers and dispositions but hell…the afterwards, whenever they get around to that…continues to stun him.

But now, and in spite of everything…he doesn't like fighting with her. It doesn't seem right.

Rose notices that Charlie is quiet after the question he posed to her. She doesn't know what to say. 'Did you want me not to?'

'I don't like when you're silent at me like this. That quietness seems to be where we come apart. I can't tell what you're thinking.' Charlie reminds her and Rose hides her smile away, turning to the traffic. She's realised they are walking in no particular direction. Walking for the sake of walking. Perhaps to clear the air.

'Of course you can. I wear every thought on my face,' Rose reminds him and Charlie cups her face to study her eyes. Rose covers his hands with her own. 'You know why I'm frustrated?' Rose inquires and Charlie is quiet, studying her hazel eyes.

'I have an idea, yeah.' Charlie answers letting his hands fall to his sides. He inhales the last of his cigarette before he drops the stub onto the ground.

Rose turns up to him. 'I don't like seeing that. I didn't want that man to die because of me.'

Charlie makes a bold move and wraps his arm around her waist, to gauge her reaction. Rose doesn't fight him off. He draws her closer. Again she does nothing. 'He didn't die because of you, Rose.'

'Right because he had been causing trouble before me.' Rose surmises and Charlie exhales slowly. He doesn't get her anger towards what's happened.

'Yes. It wasn't your fault.' Charlie answers firmly and Rose glances back to the alleyway they are quickly leaving behind.

'If that's the truth then why don't I feel relieved?' Rose wonders rhetorically and Charlie places his hand on her lower back and Rose stops in the street turning in to Charlie. He can see the conflict in her eyes.

'I'm not sure. That man didn't matter. Trouble begets trouble.'

'That isn't helping…' Rose sighs and Charlie begins walking with her towards no particular direction. Wanting to return to the safety of one of their hotel rooms, particularly hers since that's where the majority of her things are, Rose takes a step to the street curb and sticks her hand out, hailing a taxi. She doesn't say anything when Charlie once again puts his arm around her waist; strangely she finds it comforting, and she leans into him.

Rose is quiet when she climbs in to the taxi and Charlie sits next to her, keeping her close to him. They're quiet and she wonders what the hell is wrong with her. She's already forgetting the incident. Charlie didn't actually put the gun to that man's head and pulled the trigger. Owney did. And yet…logically, Charlie could have said no, to stop, but he didn't. And that's where she gets conflicted. She knew better. She can't stop herself, that's the scariest thing. Especially when he tilts her chin up to him so he can kiss her. It makes her hot and bothered when she pulls away from him panting deeply.

'What hotel?' Charlie stares at the marks on her neck immensely bothered by them. Rose inhales deeply as she attempts to decide. Charlie running his hand up and down her thigh doesn't help her either. The Waldorf is closer to Harlem than the Chelsea is.

'Yours, it's the closest.' Rose reminds him and Charlie shrugs.

'If you want to go to the Chelsea all you have to do is say so.' Charlie responds however Rose shakes her head and get comfortable in his embrace. It seems as though she's fine with her decision.

Her mind is racing, going over every small detail about what transpired tonight. The debate that has been an ongoing occurrence to her since she and Charlie starting sleeping together, that very first time, continues to resonate in her mind. It tells her things she already knows. Like it's time to go.

To the logical side comes in the renegade attitude. The cavalier girl who looks at Charlie understanding every decision he makes because she's been there. Granted she doesn't take people's lives but she knows what it comes down to. Business. That's all.

She remains conflicted the entire drive back to the Waldorf.


	17. Chapter 17: 1931

The room is warm, the June nights are not getting any cooler, still humid. It appears as though this will be a sign of things to come. Hopefully this summer won't be as humid as the last. Of course the reason here is because Rose has left the French doors to the balcony open, the curtains moving slowly in the breeze. She is supposed to be here, she was coming up from the Chelsea so he takes the open French doors as her signal as being here and yet he can't seem to find her.

He checks the bedroom as he takes off his hat and coat, tossing them onto the chair covered with her clothing. She isn't there or in the bathroom. But her bag is. She is here…but where? He undoes the front few buttons on his jacket before deciding to take it off entirely tossing it with his coat and hat. He tugs the tie loose as he wanders out of the bedroom and into the lounge. That's when he sees a shadow move across the curtains to the balcony.

Charlie parts them as he walks outside and pauses in his step. At least he's found Rose. He takes a few tentative steps towards her. She's lying on the rail of the balcony. It's barely large enough to fit a body on it let alone the fact that she's laying horizontally across it. Her leg is bent and her arm is draped across her face. A near empty glass of whiskey is a few feet from her head. He's worried she'll fall, for god sake, they're forty-six floors up. He worries that she's drunk and this is the first viable place she felt around for, mistaking it for a bed. Whatever the case may be, it doesn't matter now anyway; he needs to get her off of the balcony rail and into bed. Not to mention that marble must be freezing for her to lie on.

'Rose? What are you doing out here? Come down before you fall.' Charlie calls to her and Rose turns her head towards him. The bruising on her bare neck has nearly disappeared, thankfully. Just a few discoloured spots now and her voice have recovered. In the fading light from the lounge he can barely make out her eyes, they're half closed, she looks sad.

Rose turns her gaze back to the sky. The sun has already set, disappeared between the buildings; she watched it happen moments before Charlie walked in. Now it's just the pale yellow light remaining.

'I just wanted quiet.' She answers and Charlie stands a few feet from her, he watches her carefully, trying to understand why she'd want to do what she's doing. He leans on the balcony close to her head and collects her drink, taking a sip.

'It's noisier out here than in the room.' Charlie reminds her and Rose sits up, it makes him nervous she'll tip.

'No, it's wonderful here.' Rose replies and leans back on her left hand. Charlie covers it with his own.

'What's going?'

'A friend…of mine…died today.' She whispers and Charlie sets the glass of whiskey back down on the ledge and draws her closer.

'I'm sorry, Rose.'

'He was…murdered…' Her tone becomes bitter and angry, livid even. Charlie stares at her carefully and Rose fights off the angry tears.

'By who?'

'Someone I used to work with, I'm sure of it.' Rose responds and moves her right hand to cover her mouth so she won't break down again. Charlie grips her hand tightly when he notices the cuts that litter her hand. Dried blood sticks to her fingers and palm.

'How'd you get this?'

'I got into a fight with someone. Actually no, I started a fight with someone. Glass shattered in my hand. I meant to take care of it…but I got to thinking…'

'Jesus Christ, Rose,' Charlie inspects her hand carefully and notices that none of the cuts are deep. It doesn't seem to bother her any longer. Still, her hand ought to be cleaned up. 'Is that why you left earlier this morning? You're back earlier than I expected.'

Rose sits on balcony rail. 'It was…and I know. My meeting was brief…'

* * *

><p><em>The phone startles her awake and causes Charlie to shift in bed and glance up before setting his head down, asleep once more. Thankfully he didn't seem to care that the ringing was coming from her mobile and not the room phone. Rose checks the time. Nearly four in the morning here. She slides her finger across and brings it to her ear.<em>

_'Hello?'_

_'Rose? It's Jack.'_

_'Hey, what's going on?'_

_'Why are you whispering?' Jack wonders and Rose turns over to Charlie. She places a kiss on him before she slides out of bed, takes his shirt with her and wraps herself into it. She walks across the floor to the doorway._

_'Because I was asleep and it's night time.'_

_'Or because there's someone else there with you?' Jack wonders and Rose is silent on the matter. Before she can answer, Jack has interrupted her again. 'Rose?! Is there?! Have a man with you? Or…a woman?'_

_'Jack! No! You just woke me up is all.' Rose feels herself redden even though she doesn't know why. Or does she? Tell Jack that she's with an infamous gangster will surely get him to thinking. Like how bonkers she must be._

_'You can tell me…'_

_'No! You woke me up, that's all, I haven't even turned the lights on yet. I'm not in London, I'm in New York.' Rose insists and Charlie shifts in the bed. Rose lowers her voice further and turns away from Charlie. _

_'Still?'_

_'I like to get away,' Rose smiles and shifts her weight from one foot to the other. 'What's going on?'_

_Jack is silent on the other end. For some time, as though he's debating what to say to her. It doesn't make her feel better. 'I have some bad news…'_

_'Oh…I don't think I want to hear it…' Rose presses her hand to her head and inhales, unsure of what could bad news could possibly be on the horizon._

_'No, you need to hear this…' Jack insists and Rose turns over her shoulder to steal a glance at Charlie. She bites her lip._

_'Would you rather I come back?' Rose offers and Jack clears his throat._

_'No, no need, then again I expect you'll be back anyway.' Jack replies and Rose feels her stomach twists itself into knots. Tighter and tighter._

_'Tell me…'_

_'It's Pollock. They found him in the room this morning. Dead,' Jack is silent waiting for Rose to comment but she remains silent. In fact so silent that Jack is afraid the mobiles have disconnected. He can't even hear her breathing. 'Rose? Are you there?'_

_'Yeah…I am. I'll be right there,' Rose promises and she inhales deeply. 'Did they…they see anything? Find anything?'_

_'There's footage you…you just need to see it.' Jack replies and Rose inhales deeply. Still shocked from the news that she's received. She swallows a lump in her throat and fights off the tears._

_'I'll be right there.' Rose promises._

_'Good.'_

_She hangs up the mobile and slips out of Charlie's shirt, fishing around for clothes to put on and pack. First things first, she slides into bed and wraps her arms around his middle. It doesn't take long before Charlie has turned to her apparently still tired. She gives him a sad smile and kisses him deeply. Before she knows it she's on top of him, kissing him ardently. She pulls away slowly._

_'I have to go…'_

_Charlie frowns. 'It's late. Where do you need to go?'_

_Rose attempts to slide off of him but he keeps her where she is. 'Work. There's an emergency. They need me.'_

_Charlie studies her carefully and he can see the worry on her face. She's distressed and so he releases her. She stays, briefly. Long enough to kiss him and dress, leaving him with wanting more as she always does. _

_He watches her dress, packing a bag as well, that concerns him so he sits up as she continues to dash around looking for things. 'You're planning on staying for a few days, then?'_

_'Have you seen my, oh never mind, here they are,' Rose throws in her jeans to the bag. She doesn't hear Charlie's question. 'What about my jacket?'_

_Charlie sighs. 'What one?'_

_'My short black one.' Rose throws her hair up and zips up her bag. Charlie lays back and shakes his head though he knows Rose isn't paying attention._

_'The Chelsea.'_

_'Are you sure?' Rose slides in next to him and Charlie merely eyes her._

_'The one that sits at your hips.' Charlie places his hand on her hip, rubbing it slightly._

_'Yes,' Rose replies and he draws her closer, kissing her deeply and when Rose breaks for air she places her hand on his cheek. 'Yes, I'll be gone for a few days…'_

_'That one is at the Chelsea,' Charlie responds when she breaks for a quick inhale of air. He senses the quiet desperation, the worry practically radiates off her. If she was trying to keep him from suspecting anything she wasn't really doing a good job of it. Whatever they called her about it had to be serious. Emergency appeared to be an understatement. 'Will you call me when you are on your way back?'_

_Rose smiles and nods her head. Getting her bag from the chair Rose turns back and leans on the door. 'I will, I'll be in Boston. I just don't know how long I'll be…'_

_'As long as you'll be back.' Charlie answers and stifles a yawn._

_'Of course I will be.' Rose promises._

_'Then be safe.'_

_'I will.'_

* * *

><p><em>Rose looks up to the sound of the door opening. A hand reaches out to hers. She directs her gaze back to the man who sits beside her. Her eyes are sore, heavy from all the crying she had done earlier, privately and alone. It cut her deeply, she saved him and in the end he died. What's worse? He had been getting better, they were making small but significant steps to curing him. And the piece of filth that had just walked into the bar murdered him.<em>

_'Ignore him. Don't be stupid,' Jack whispers into her ear and Rose glares up at him before staring at the white-knuckle grip she has on her whiskey glass. Jack squeezes her shoulder and stands behind her. 'I'll be right back. Don't engage him.'_

_Rose watches Jack head out back and she presses her lips together before taking a quick drink. Sure enough that trash heads to the bar and makes room to stand beside her while he waits to be served. She doesn't acknowledge him, probably best that she doesn't, she might punch him in the nose._

_'So, this is where you all come after the work is done, eh?' He wonders and Rose doesn't answer him. He takes a drink and sits beside her. She gives him a steely look but he doesn't move. 'You're not going to talk to me? Why are you so difficult to deal with, Marion? I know you're upset about your friend dying, but-…'_

_Rose slams her glass down and stares him, inhaling deeply. 'You can say whatever you want, charm whoever you want. But it won't fool me. You killed him. And I'm going to find out why.'_

_Bill smiles at her and downs the rest of his drink as he leans into her and lowers his voice. 'Prove it.'_

_Rose smiles at her glass and finishes it. She circles it around in her hand and glances up to Bill. She abruptly smashes it into the side of his head, ignoring the glass shards in her hands and Bill falls to the ground from the shock and to miss the secondary swing Rose goes to dole out. As she goes to lunge down to him, an arm reaches out and secures itself around her middle and holds her back. She struggles to free herself as Bill moves back and rubs the blood from his eye._

_Rose turns up to Jack and glares at him while she shakes herself free from his grasp. She eyes him and says nothing, shoving her way to the doors, pushing the people who had come to gather around to see the scene. She glances over her shoulder to lock stares with Jack and she shakes her head, heading out of the pub._

_Jack looks down to Bill who is carefully moving himself into a standing position. He glares at Bill before he grabs the front of his shirt and yanks Bill towards him. 'Listen here, I don't care what the hell happened between you two but all I know is this: you were the last person to see her friend alive and your story has so many holes it's amazing you haven't been charged with anything. But mark my words, I will find out what you did to him.'_

_'And when the evidence proves contrary?' Bill wonders and struggles to suppress his smirk. They're going to be at this for a very long time._

_'It won't.' _

_Jack walks towards the exit, hoping to catch Rose before she's dashed off to who knows where. However something tells him she already has. She has something in New York that keeps her going back and no matter what she says; he knows it's someone important to her. He doesn't understand her need to keep it silent, but maybe she's not ready to tell the world she's found someone._

_'Hey, Jack!' Bill shouts to him from across the room and Jack pauses in his step, hand hovering over the doorknob._

_'What?'_

_'I've got two words for you and Ms Smith.'_

_'Yeah? And what are they?'_

_'Good luck.' Bill smirks at him. A cocky smirk that nearly has Jack marching back across the floor to punch it off of him however he manages to pull the door open and walk outside._

_Rose isn't there when he emerges. He attempts to call her but she doesn't answer._

* * *

><p>'Sounds like an omission of guilt.' Charlie responds and taps the cigarette a few times on the balcony rail. Rose is cold to him, he can't even offer her his jacket as he's already taken it off. Rose appears to be content just settled in his embrace. She wraps her arm around his waist.<p>

'To say I strongly dislike him is an understatement.' Rose confirms and Charlie turns to her and gives her a sad smile. He wipes the tears that had fallen with his thumb.

'I'll say.'

'What do I do?' Rose wonders and Charlie draws his arm back to ignite the cigarette and exhales slowly. He watches the traffic below and contemplates her question. Rose examines her hand and flexes it. It stings and is tight. She breaks open a few cuts that had been sealed and some blood begins to spill out. She closes her eyes at her impulsive behaviour.

Charlie notices the cuts on her hand have reopened and he checks his pockets, there isn't anything he can use to help her so he grabs the remaining whiskey and leads her inside. He sits her down on the closest chair and goes into the bedroom. Rose watches the doorway. Charlie comes back with a piece of cloth and grabs the crystal decanter of whiskey sitting on the divan. She's always leaving it somewhere odd. He kneels in front of Rose and takes her hand. He takes off the stopper for the decanter and liberally soaks the whiskey into the cloth.

He wraps her hand in the cloth and she cries out from the shock and stinging sensation. Tears immediately spring to her eyes and she exhales slowly. She winces as he begins to daub her hand. Several times she attempts to draw her hand back but Charlie holds her hand gently but firmly as he continues to clean her hand. She cries out when he starts dabbing a deeper cut. Charlie glances up briefly before he lower his gaze to her hand.

'Maybe this will stop you from starting speak fights.'

Rose rests her forehead with his and smiles at him. 'Probably not. I'll just have to stop using such breakable objects when I hit them over something stupid.'

Charlie smiles at her. 'That's a fight I should like to see.'

Rose loosens his tie further for him and unbuttons his collar with her free hand. She studies the scar running across his neck and attempts to imagine what he could have possibly been thinking of in that moment. It makes her think back to the night they first met and how normal he had tried to make everything seem between them even though he had been bleeding out in front of her. She had thought about him after that for three days, humming and hawing as to whether or not it'd be proper to track him down and see how he was. Turns out she didn't need to, things fell into place on their own. Just as though they had seen one another after that night. The pleasant conversation, how nice he had been to her. She has always been able to feel the faint scars on his back from where he'd been stabbed by the ice picks. Just a few spots but it makes her think about his safety. Not to mention how lucky how he had been.

'I was just…'

Charlie interrupts her. 'As for what you should do-…'

'Didn't think you heard me. Or if you did you ignored me.' Rose talks over him and Charlie smiles a bit at her. He kisses her as he pulls away Rose pulls him towards her for another.

'I've been thinking about what you should do,' Charlie sets the cloth on the ground and takes the second cloth to clean off the remaining wet blood on her hand. 'If you're certain he was responsible for causing your friend's death then you know what you need to do.'

'Not your way, Charlie.' Rose clarifies and Charlie merely eyes her. He concedes.

'Then do it your way,' Charlie runs his thumb over her cheek; Rose closes her eyes and enjoys the affection. 'Patience, Rose, even if it takes years.'

'I'll wait. For now. But when the moment comes, I'm going to take my shot.' Rose declares and Charlie gives her a crooked grin.

'Knowing you, that guy won't know what hit him.'

Rose looks at him with a relieved smile, glad that she shared that. Hell she already told Charlie about Hennessey, and the Ruby Jade incident. His comment? She was much too good to slum with them. If they didn't respect her, she didn't need them. She'd make her own way.

Oh hell, has she ever.

* * *

><p>He's late. Not surprising. Charlie walks a few paces up the street and then back down. It's funny that this place becomes a haven for those who enjoy winter activities. They've already been talking about expanding the skating rink by a few more feet this winter, given that its popularity has increased every year. There's even talk that once the Rockefeller Centre is completed, Rockefeller himself plans on sponsoring the event. He can only imagine the opulence that will drip from the event. He's heard many rumours about what Rockefeller has envisioned. Guess it gives him something to dream about.<p>

Charlie glances down the street, still nothing.

Hard to believe this had been the same spot he and Maranzano had met six months prior. Beginning of December. They had met right here for the first time, just after nine at night. And unbeknownst to him, so had Rose. The only like that had been shining on the skating rink that night had come from the street lamps. That hadn't bothered her.

Actually, now that he recalls it, he hadn't noticed she was on the ice. He and Maranzano had been talking, the only other person with them was a man on a bench reading the evening edition of the paper when the sound of the blade cutting around on the ice alerted their attention to the lone skater on the ice. Maranzano had laughed at the sheer audacity the female had being out unescorted so late at night but then again Maranzano was always backwards in his thinking.

Charlie had known instantly that it was Rose. It was her legs that gave it away. Her outfit was something else that gave her away as well. It was though someone had taken a paintbrush, dipped it in black paint and painted her legs black, that's how revealingly tight her pants were. And the black jacket, tight, fitted, outlined her curves but thin. It didn't look as though it was warm. Her hair was worn in two parts that hung down on her shoulders, in braids, and she had a black hat on as well, but it was slouchy. Strange looking hat, he'd never seen one until then. So were the two pieces of string that came from her hat, positioned around her ears and disappeared into her pocket. He had wondered what those were.

They had stopped talking to watch her skate. Another talent he didn't know she had. He had heard that Sonja Henie was considered to be the best figure skater in the world but…they haven't seen Rose go at it. It appeared to him that she was dancing to invisible music. She glided across that ice and skated confidently, like she had done it many, many times before.

He remembered smiling back then, the jumps she did, spinning mid air and landing on one foot only to glide backwards. The way she seamlessly crossed one foot in front of the other, forwards or backwards, spinning on one foot bringing the other foot up over her head or others he couldn't even begin to imagine. The little skips to switch from backwards and forwards, she had looked like she was having fun but at the same time concentrating immensely hard. At least it explained her flexibility. He had nearly gotten lost watching her skate. It was rather mesmerising, the silent pride he had felt when she landed each of her jumps. It had been addicting to watch.

_'Lei sta mettendo su tutto lo spettacolo, il tuo piccolo pezzo di culo.'_ Maranzano had told him and Charlie had remembered looking at Rose, off in her own world while he impatiently tossed the spent cigarette to the ground. She hadn't noticed he was there, merely steps from her with a man who knew all about her. Because that's how Maranzano operated, blackmail, learn his routine and whom he saw just in case he needed to use it to his advantage.

_'We aren't here to talk about…chi cazzo, va bene? Abbiamo cose più importanti da discutere.'_ Charlie recalled eyeing him when Marazano gave him a look. A look of disgust that he was speaking English. Stubborn fucking ass. What did he expect? Sicilians usually are. And Maranzano was one Sicilian he couldn't afford to piss off back then. Now? Who gives a fuck?

'Che cosa stai pensando?'

Charlie looks over his shoulder, he hides his annoyance. 'I'm not thinking anything.'

Maranzano chuckles lightly. 'Then maybe I should tell you what I'm thinking.'

'It's why I'm here, ain't I?' Charlie ignites the cigarette he'd just pulled out from his jacket and Maranzano merely nods his head. Charlie can already feel his patience waning. Missing dinner with Rose for this? He hoped she hadn't minded dinner without him at Carlo's this evening. He can't imagine why she wouldn't; she and Cat get along rather well.

Maranzano begins leading him away from the agreed meeting point. Charlie looks over his shoulder just in case. He had an odd feeling that Maranzano could attempt to pull something but so far nothing. Charlie simply didn't trust him. So they continue to head down 48th Street. Nothing out of the ordinary yet.

'I've been hearing things.' Maranzano begins and Charlie turns his gaze towards him before turning it back to the street in front of them. Charlie hears quick footsteps behind him and he slows his pace down to listen. He tilts his hat down a little further.

A man brushes by them before breaking out into a run to hail a taxi. Charlie exhales and pulls his hand out of his jacket, releasing the handle of the gun.

'What have you been hearing?' Charlie wonders and Maranzano ignites his own cigarette.

'That my vision, my direction, is not well received.' Maranzano replies and Charlie eyes him before shaking his head.

'You don't say…'

'What have _you_ been hearing?' Maranzano wonders and Charlie shrugs his shoulders absently. He's heard all the complaints. Not to mention the repeated requests for Charlie to allow them to kill him. Too soon. They have to wait, patience. But Charlie also doesn't miss the look in Maranzano's eyes. Caution paired with suspicion. He's starting to suspect something.

'Change is hard for anyone to accept.'

'Is that what they think they're having difficulties with?' Maranzano questions and gives him a sideways glance already wanting this conversation to be over. 'And you? Are you having difficulties with these changes?'

'You caught me off guard, Salvatore. We talked about one thing and then you did another.' Charlie reminds and Maranzano nods his head as though the entire situation suddenly makes senses. As though he understands why those around him are in a constant state of anger and impatience. And maybe why they are being disrespectful. Subtly. Asking him to repeat things when he knows very well they had heard him. But when Charlie asks them to do something, suddenly they have clear hearing and do as they're bid.

'Is that what this about? The meeting in…' Maranzano trails off unable to recall the name of the place they were at.

'Ithaca. Yes. They had hoped for a more…modernisation of how things were run. They wanted equal parts in this.' Charlie struggles to keep his voice steady and ensure it doesn't rise in obvious anger. That isn't easy. It was a personal shot to them all, reneging on his promises.

'Is that not what I did? We govern through the five of us, Charlie. The rest of heads have a say, and I have the final one. What more do they want?' Maranzano flicks his cigarette into the streets.

'They don't want someone above them.' Charlie answers firmly and puts his hands into his pockets, keeping himself neutral in this conversation is becoming more and more difficult. Being diplomatic when he's displaying his ignorance…diplomacy is the kind of thing he wishes to forget at the moment and resort to something more memorable.

'Someone has to ensure things are running smoothly. An overseer.' Maranzano answers with a darker tone than he's been using prior to this. Charlie merely shrugs to keep himself neutral.

'An overseer that requires a deep cut of their businesses?' Charlie questions innocently and Maranzano stops in his step. Charlie presses onward until he realises that he's left Maranzano behind and doubles back.

'I've heard an awful lot of 'they,' Charlie and not a lot of 'I.' Maranzano informs him when Charlie stops in front of him. Charlie inhales quickly and hastily thinks of something up on the spot to shift focus away from him. In time Marazano will learn how personally he had taken Marazano's betrayal. It is a matter of organising affairs.

'What do you want me to say? I just told you that what you did surprised me, but who am I to question it? You rewarded my loyalty by giving me Masseria's interests, allowed me to keep my own.' Charlie reminds him and Maranzano nods his head in agreement, debating something Charlie can't tell. Maranzano resumes walking and Charlie keeps his head down as he follows him. What's stopping him right now from pulling his gun out and putting on right between Maranzano's eyes? Just about a dozen witnesses.

'And? Do you think my cut is too much?' Maranzano questions. Charlie mulls his words over very carefully. This line is getting dangerously thin. The game is getting more precarious by the moment.

'Do I not give you your cut?' Charlie questions and Maranzano nods his head deeply.

'You do.'

'On time?'

'Yes.'

'Without complaining?'

'You do, but I don't know about after you leave and to who.' Maranzano points out and Charlie concedes his points, however this isn't about what he does after he leaves, the point is he's attempting to show the boys that they can do both. Plot his death but still follow the rules. Carry on but he'll have to warn them to keep their complaining to a minimum and to watch who they complain in front of.

'Poi che cazzo vuoi da me?' Charlie questions and Maranzano smiles, putting his arm around Charlie's shoulders in apparent acceptance of his words. Charlie gives him a small crooked smile. He may have just avoided a mess of trouble.

'Niente. Niente.' Maranzano replies confidently and releases Charlie. He exhales out the nerves he'd been feeling. Hatred or not, Maranzano is still powerful and not someone to have on your bad side. He could send a hit out and within hours the victim would be on the ground dead. He's doing his damnest to ensure that the hit doesn't go out on him.

They part at Park Ave. and Charlie continues up to the Waldorf, he has to phone Frank and let him know about the conversation he's just had. They'll have to be even more careful about what they do and say. The smallest seed of doubt, if planted correctly, can flower out and spread very quickly. They may have to move up their plans. Who knew planning two massive hits within the year could be this stressful.

Charlie pauses in the lobby and frowns at his thought. The fuck is he complaining about? He's been thinking of his moment for the last nine years, ever since he got the opportunity to accompany Arnold to an important business meeting between some very infamous gangsters from very big cities.

He presses onward. A memory that nearly made him smile. He remembered sitting in his hotel room that night, staring at his drink thinking that this was it. That was the moment he went from a petty criminal to something more. The road hadn't been easy, but the end is so close. One more obstacle in his way. As long as Maranzano doesn't suspect anything then this should be easy.

Charlie waits for the elevator and nods at the attendant when it's arrived. He steps in and watches the doors shut. When has anything in this line of work been easy?

* * *

><p>Rose is glad he's finally carved out time to see her. He's been promising her for nearly a week and a half to see her, but he's had to cancel at the last moment. Which is fine, she normally just heads back to London for the day or night, whatever, and get some things for work done. Meet prospective clients, travel a bit. On Earth or elsewhere is all the same to her. It hasn't been all that bad. She doesn't mind.<p>

However ever since she set up her Chelsea Hotel room phone to be able to ring her mobile, using the sonic of course, is it wrong that she did that given who crafted it? He'll call her to let her know if that he's at her room, come by or that he there but will be leaving, so don't bother coming by. Sometimes he'd just call her to hear her voice. He told her that one time. He must have been having a bad day.

That familiar pattern had re-emerged and told her that he is busy planning a hit. A big one and she believes she knows who it is. She had walked out of the shower one morning to hear him on the phone, sitting at his desk quietly talking to Meyer. Meyer confirming something that had made Charlie sigh in relief. Then he had set up a meeting with Meyer to meet him at a small hotel close to Grand Central. It made her curious and so she had wandered out, hoping to catch more but also at the same time entice him. He had hung up when she came out so only the tempting portion worked. That's okay, she never, ever would complain about that. But he seemed distracted afterwards, not really paying attention to what she had been saying until she had turned him towards her.

When she had inquired as to what he'd been thinking, Charlie had shaken his head saying it didn't matter. Another time she had gone to meet him at the Waldorf and was heading up to his room from the lobby when she met Meyer coming from the lift. She smiled at him and they had embraced. But he had looked stressed and not all there as she had been speaking with him. When she had gone upstairs, Charlie had been sitting on the corner of his desk looking rather blank. Still nothing when she had inquired as to what was going on. But she knew. They are in the midst of planning and it doesn't seem to be going well.

He had always appeared to forget whatever business he had going on when he was with her, but lately he's been away from her. She had done her best to keep his mind off things when he was with her because hey, she'd been rather stressed, too. And she needed the release. As she was certain he did. It doesn't help that Charlie ignites a fire within her she longed believed had been put out. Because oh damn. Damn, damn, damn. He's like…like turbulence, a wonderful, rare turbulence that makes her lips tremble. There is a delightful charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable. Damn Mark Twain and his eloquent words. Because right now she wants him more than she wants to breathe. He's got her arms pinned above her head and against the wall he had backed her up against only moments before. His words bind her tighter than anything else she's ever known, however…she likes giving control for a little while before she decides it's her turn.

He hadn't said but two words to her when he had strolled on in to her room, spinning her around as he'd taken her off guard and fervently kissing her. She had melted there, while he ensured that any article of clothing she had been wearing, minimal at best since it is late at night, had been sufficiently removed.

Rose gently pulls her mouth away from his, and breathing heavily, she steals another kiss as she decides to bring a touchy subject for her to him, since now he'll be more likely to agree with her.

'We have to talk.' Rose informs him and Charlie eyes her, bringing his hand that had been tucked around her head to ensure she couldn't pull away, down to her hips, trailing as he goes, Rose closes her eyes.

'About what? And why now?' He questions and squeezes her hip. His left hand brushes her abdomen before he lowers it between her legs.

'I never said now and about a personal visit from Nancy Presser.' Rose informs him, squeezing her eyes shut from the shock and pleasure. Charlie stops and pulls back slightly to eye her.

'She came here?'

'Yes, she did. Saying you owe her money that she's rightfully earned.' Rose responds and Charlie closes his eyes. 'You'd better not be skimming them, Salvatore Luciana, I swear to god.'

'Why are you concerning yourself with my business?' Charlie wonders, Rose can see his look darken even if his voice doesn't. Maybe it's because he isn't exactly looking at her, at least not in the eye. She probably should have kept some clothes on.

'Your business is coming to find me. Charlie, you'd better start treating those girls better.' Rose turns her head to the side to avoid him.

'Listen, Rose…' Charlie begins however Rose cuts him off, really wanting him to see their importance. And that she can't agree with what he's doing, either.

'No, Charlie, you listen, those girls are selling themselves and you're taking all their money, stop it. You keep treating them like dirt on the bottom of your shoe and they won't be inclined to continue to keep quiet. Keep them unhappy long enough and they might start to think of revenge. You think they want to be doing this? It's the only profession they have.' Rose warns seriously and Charlie stares at her. She feels him increase the pressure against her wrists still pinned above her head and Rose arches her eyebrow.

'Whoring is the _oldest_ profession, Rose, a whore is a whore and they can always be handled. They don't have guts. And I'm taking my percentage of their earnings, they know that.'

'Don't you threaten them, Charlie, it took a huge amount of courage for Nancy to come to _my_ hotel room, looking for you, demanding her portion of her earnings that she's earning by selling her body. Given the name you've made for yourself in the crime world, Charlie, I think she's got an indomitable spirit.' Rose informs him. She decides not to let him know that she had given Nancy some money. Enough to keep her quiet and split amongst the others that have been jilted.

Charlie nearly releases her, angry that she isn't on his side but the sight of her body right now makes him want to agree to anything just so he can resume kissing her. Once he's tasted her, he has to have her. She's like a craving.

'I'll look into it.' He replies, Rose can hear there is a slight absence in his voice and she eyes him suspiciously, she isn't entirely convinced that he will and when she allows him to ardently kiss her once again, pressing her body to his to lure him in, she breaks away abruptly.

She can't make him close those doors to those whorehouses, as they'll be his undoing and she can't convince those girls to leave, they'll be the ones to bring him down but dammit she wants better treatment of them, no one wants to be in that line of work, hell she knows if they had other options prostitution wouldn't be one of them. But the economy is shot, and they need to earn money…and Charlie is right…whoring is the oldest profession. And sadly, there's always a need for that.

'Promise me. Promise me you'll start treating them better.' She states seriously, panting slightly and her break leaves him hungering for more.

'I will.' He replies and Rose can't tell if he's serious or not and if need be she will revisit this topic again. She wants those girls safe and protected.

She doesn't offer a reply and allows him to kiss her deeply once more, his free arm snaking behind her back to pull her forwards to him, she's getting to a point where she can no longer allow him to keep her wrists pinned above her as she wants him. She desperately wants him and stands on her toes to demonstrate her urgency.

A frantic set of knocks interrupts them and Rose sighs of impatience. Charlie turns over his shoulder, about to release her because she can feel the pressure on her wrists weaken. Not wanting him to go Rose contracts the muscles in her abdomen and pulls her legs up so she can wrap them around him. It catches him off guard and she smiles coyly at him, pulling him tighter to her.

'Don't answer it.' Rose pleads with him and squeezes her knees into his ribs.

'Charlie?' The sound of Albert's voice causes Charlie to glance over his shoulder once again and then back to Rose, as if he's attempting to decide which person gets what side and when. Rose, she clings to him, breathing heavily and her smoky eyes beckoning him to forget Albert and stay with her. He kisses her again. 'I know you're in there, Charlie, the guy at the front desk told me. Put the English whore down. We need to talk, it's urgent.'

Rose breaks away and eyes the door with an unimpressed look. 'One more time, and I won't be held responsible for the consequences of my actions.' Rose warns and Charlie releases her arms, which Rose then wraps around his neck and continues to try to entice him to stay with her. She can see him trying to decide.

'For fuck sake, Charlie, it's Maranzano! I gotta tell you something!' Albert states and Rose pulls away as Charlie stares at the door. He turns back to Rose with an apologetic look in his eyes. She smiles sadly and lowers herself to the floor, knowing what the news already is, thanks to history, however she has to take to the sidelines so he can claim his right to power. She walks towards the bed, trying to shake herself into reality again.

'I'm sorry…' Charlie says to her and quickly picks up his jacket and coat, Rose sits on the bed and watches him go with a defeated expression. She leans over the side of the bed to where her shirt is and picks it up. When she turns up she sees Charlie by the bedside and she frowns with a confused smile. He tilts her chin up and kisses her deeply.

'I may not be back,' Charlie begins and pauses. 'Tonight, though, hopefully.'

'I know…' Rose replies and he strides towards the door. She draws her legs together when she hears him opening it followed by a shout of pain and Charlie's words of warning to Albert.

'She ain't no whore, Albert, one more fucking time…'

'Sorry, Charlie…'

That's all she hears as he shuts the door and she lays back on the bed, panting a bit, wondering when he'd come back. She knows the outcome…but that doesn't mean she doesn't worry for his safety. She worries that her relationship with him could change something, do something bad…

She gets to her feet when her mobile rings, she reluctantly goes to answer it, unsure of what it could possibly be and who would call her now.

* * *

><p>Albert wipes the blood from his nose and sniffs, swallowing the blood and clearing his throat. So, he learned his lesson, he isn't allowed to call Rose anything but Rose from now on. He's never seen Charlie so smitten with a broad before. Albert attempts to push those thoughts from his mind and focus on the massive problem at hand. He eyes Charlie as he swishes his drink around in the glass, his expression is unreadable. Ever since they arrived at the restaurant in Brooklyn, Nuova Villa Tammaro where this all began, Charlie hasn't said much, allowing Albert to do most of the talking. Albert doesn't like the silence. Charlie's being too quiet, but he can tell he's thinking. Albert had heard about the hit through trusted sources and Tommy Lucchese is as trusted as they come. Posing as a dissatisfied member of Charlie's gang to get closer to Maranzano's inner circle had been a brilliant idea, he didn't know whose it was, but Tommy had always been brilliant at crime and reading people. He had that air about him that made him trustworthy. And yet if one truly knew Tommy they would know that he is as crooked as they come, and double crosses anyone that is in his way if he didn't decide to murder them first.<p>

Of course, Charlie hadn't really made it a secret that he was unhappy with Maranzano's greed and constant scheming. Albert isn't happy about it either, none of them are. Those old Moustache Pete's and their greed, the other gangs, the Irish and the Jewish ones, they got rich while they were left to fight for the scraps that Maranzano and Massaria believed they were kind enough to leave them. Not to mention Maranzano's undisputed role as the boss of all bosses, Charlie had raged about that for days, and he agreed, Vito agreed, hell Joey A. and Frank Costello all hated him, too. But as Maranzano's capo, what could Charlie do back then? Scheme apparently, Masseria had been killed by a hit orchestrated by Charlie at this very restaurant nearly seven months ago, effectively ending the Castellammarese War, or so Maranzano believed. Actually or so Charlie believed, that had been the only reason he had agreed to scheme with Maranzano to bump off Masseria, to end the war, the body count had been getting out of hand, drawing too much attention from the law and Charlie knew it was bad for business. Albert glances around the restaurant, fitting that they come back to plot the final obstacle in their jump to grab the power that is being held above them.

It had really been about Maranzano elevating himself above all the other heads of the families that had ticked the younger gangsters off. The heads of the families were in charge but still had to pledge fealty to Maranzano? Where the hell did that guy get the nerve? Charlie told them after Maranzano called the meeting at the banquet hall with the other Mafiosi to anoint those that had survived the war, merely two weeks after Massaria's murder in April, a reward. And that had been quite the day for some. He had given Charlie, Gagliano, Scalise and Mangano their own families as a reward for their loyalty and then created himself a family and another position. The capo di tutti capi. Charlie called his own meeting, with Massaria's former family that had been given to him by Maranzano, and fumed that while Maranzano claimed to be all for modernising the mafia, he was still at heart a Moustache Pete that didn't want to work with any non Italians, hell he didn't even want to work with some Italians depending on where they were born in Italy. While Charlie wanted to associate with anyone that would earn them money, hell he's been friends with Meyer since they were kids. Charlie hated and resented Maranzano more, which in turn fuelled their hatred for him as well, but in particular his underboss, Vito's. Whoever Charlie hated, they hated and Charlie regretted that he had made them switch sides as he knew that Maranzano was more power hungry and arrogant than Masseria had been. He hadn't made it a secret that he vehemently disliked that Charlie associated with Ben Siegel and Meyer, nor that he took their advice over Maranzano's. Charlie didn't care, and that was dangerous.

'He's gotta go.' Charlie finally says and downs the rest of his drink. After setting the glass down, he reaches into his pocket and brings a cigarette to his mouth. Albert nods his head.

'It's get him before he gets us. How are we gonna do this?' Albert questions and Charlie grows quiet once more, thinking about weaknesses that they can exploit. How does he strike at Maranzano?

He'd been right to switch sides once he saw that Masseria had started to lose the turf war back in the early days of the war. Thankfully the rest of his Young Turks paid fake allegiance to Maranzano as well, but in truth guys like Albert and Joey were loyal only to him. Maranzano needed muscle to keep the money from his rackets flowing, and he had turned to Charlie to do that, elevating him to capo, big mistake. Even worse was making him the head of his own family. That must have been where Maranzano had seen his gaffe and now he wanted to eliminate his competition. Charlie had orchestrated the hit on his old boss, what would stop him from doing the same to the new one?

'We wait.' Charlie surmises and Albert frowns, catching the matchbox that Charlie tosses to him and he strikes a light of his own. Waiting to be killed isn't exactly the best idea in the world, Albert hopes that he has a bit more to go on, but Charlie is quiet. Staring at the empty glass in his hand, Albert knows he's plotting; it's just hard to tell what the end goal is.

'Wait more? Charlie, why not just rub the fuck out tonight, eh?' Albert questions but Charlie shakes his head, setting the glass back onto the table.

'No, he doesn't know that Tommy found out about the hit on us. So, we continue on, like nothing's gonna happen, but believe me, Al, we will end him. We just gotta wait for the right moment.' Charlie explains and Albert nods his head, stubbing out the first cigarette and immediately igniting another.

'Okay…' Albert responds but doesn't seem entirely convinced that waiting is the best idea, not with a hit on them.

'Let's plan this better than the last time, though. I don't want no incidences like we had with Masseria's hit. Terranova was lucky that Ben was there to drive.' Charlie recalls watching from the restaurant window after Albert, Ben, Vito and Joey shot Masseria, dashing out of the restaurant, climbing into the getaway car and Terranova unable to drive the car because of shock, as the cop sirens became audible, Ben had had to shove Terranova out of the way to get to the wheel and Vito shoving him into the back set with Albert. Albert had to punch the sense back into the guy. Albert was almost pleased that his reputation suffered after that. One job. He had one job and he couldn't slip the car into gear.

'Yeah, that guy ain't allowed to drive no more get away cars.' Albert agrees and sets the cigarette down, taking a long drink from his glass that he hadn't touched. Too much ice had melted and escaped into the whiskey, diluting it too much. His own fault.

'I'll talk to Meyer in the morning. He'll probably suggest Ben for the hit and a few others. And I want Red Levine there as well. I want people there that Maranzano's men won't recognise. Meyer and I have been going over possibilities since Ithaca but we'll have to pick one now.'

'Just pray that Marazano doesn't summon you, Vito and Frankie on the Sabbath. You'll be shit outta luck for Red's help then.' Albert responds half serious and Charlie chuckles.

'Red can always be persuaded to kill someone on the Sabbath with the right sum of money.' Charlie answers and pushes back his chair, really wanting to return to Rose, his thoughts have been mostly about her as well, hard to plan a murder and coup when he can't stop thinking about his girlfriend. Hopefully she hasn't dashed off to work. They've been here long enough; Albert finishes his watery drink and stubs out the cigarette. He stands with Charlie and they walk out of the restaurant and Albert turns him.

'Charlie, I've been waiting for this day for at least eight years. You're gonna be on top if I have to kill everybody for you. With you there, that's the only way we can have any peace and make the real money.' Albert states seriously and Charlie turns over to him with a small smile, appreciating Albert's trusted loyalty to him.

'Hopefully after this hit, there won't be any more wars within the families. That'll take care of all the Mafiosi with ties to the Old Ways. It'll just be us, Al, we'll turn the Cosa Nostra around.'

'With you at the helm, Charlie, it'll be a golden age.' Albert agrees and Charlie smirks at him while lighting up another cigarette.

'I'll keep you informed, Al, but let me run it by Meyer first. We'll have to plan quick, I don't want to get a phone call from Maranzano tomorrow telling me to round up Vito and Frankie and meet him in his office.' Charlie responds and turns his coat collar up against the rain that has started to fall.

'We all know what that means…' Albert agrees and piles into the passenger side of the car while Charlie gets into the driver's side.

The drive back to Manhattan is quiet.

* * *

><p>There she is, still here, thankfully, just as he left her. He opens the pocket door to the back half of the room and she turns in her sleep, from one side to the other. Charlie tosses his coat and hat onto the vanity chair and sighs. Thankfully they made it back to Manhattan without incident. Not that he really anticipated trouble, but you never know. Maranzano…who knows who he may have told or contracted the hit to. Once anyone gets word of the hit, they'll be all over it, and he, Vito and Frankie are marked men now. The bedroom portion of the hotel room is cold, she's left the window open again, and she always leaves the window open. It helps her sleep better, is her excuse.<p>

When he turns over to Rose, still asleep quietly, he really hopes he gets to Maranzano first. He doesn't want to leave her; he's too fond of her. She shifts again and he walks towards the bed, sliding in beside her. She lets out a soft sigh and he pulls her towards him. He didn't mean to wake her but she stirs in his arms and opens her eyes a few times, attempting to get the sleep from her eyes.

'Charlie?'

'It's cold in here,' Charlie remarks and Rose gives her a tired smile, telling him that he knows why it's cold, plus it's raining and she likes to fall asleep to the sound of the rain. He can see the relief in her eyes that he's come back unscathed. 'Made it back.' He confirms.

Rose smiles, sleep clings heavily to her, she staring at him with half closed eyes. 'I can see that…good, I'm glad.'

'I didn't mean to wake you.' Charlie states seriously and Rose adjusts herself to fit better into his embrace.

'You did…' Rose teases and Charlie gives her a crooked smile. He absently places his hand on her bare knee and Rose closes her eyes, still tired. 'Everything's okay?'

'As good as it can be.' Charlie answers and Rose gives him a sideways glance, she pulls him down for a kiss, glad he's returned to her, she's still rather upset that he left earlier, but there was nothing she can do about that. She can't stop him.

'As good as it can be for a man with a contract on his head?' Rose wonders and he turns down to her, however she's staring ahead to the wall. He brings her tighter to him and she wraps her arms around him. It's still scary to her, she worries that being with him could cause something bad to happen to him. She knows the outcome. But she's living it right now with him.

'I suppose so. Are you worried for me?' Charlie muses with a smile and tilts her chin up to him so he can place a kiss on her.

'Of course I am,' Rose responds seriously when she pulls away. 'He more than likely has put a hit out on you, Charlie.'

'I'll get him first,' His response is casual and serious. To show how serious he is, he gives her one of his cocky smiles. Rose can't help but continue to worry for him, she loves him. And she hates that she's fallen for him so hard and so quickly. 'You figured it out, then?' He questions and Rose props herself up, placing her hand on his cheek and tilting her head.

'When someone close to you comes to my room knocking frantically saying they have something important to tell you regarding Maranzano, my mind only goes to one place.' Rose informs him and Charlie smiles slightly.

'Maybe it was something good.' Charlie counters and Rose hits him in the arm not appreciating his humour at a moment like this. He smiles at her and brings her closer to him.

'I don't know what else he could give you that's good. You got Massaria's family, Charlie, educate me, what else is there?'

'His death,' He replies evenly and Rose stares at him. 'Those old mafia men, the ones who started their careers in crime in Italy and then moved here, they're stuck in their ways, Rose. They're distrustful of anyone who isn't Sicilian. So blind to the opportunities to be had by working with other non Italian gangs.'

'I don't understand why.' Rose replies and immediately she thinks of Meyer, probably one of the most brilliant men she's ever known. If he wasn't crooked, Rose is sure he could have been the head of a major company. He loved learning about all things, that's why they got along so well. Charlie would get bored with their historical conversations, leaving Rose and Meyer to talk the night away. She'll never forget when she accidentally over heard Meyer telling Charlie to 'treat this one right', and 'not to let her get away.' She guesses that meant he approved of her.

'Your guess is as good as mine; they have no reason to be suspicious of anyone. That doesn't stop them, they can't see that we all want the same thing.' Charlie explains and Rose tilts her head at him, knowing what it is.

'Money?' Rose assumes and Charlie smirks at her, nodding his head.

'Power.' He adds and Rose rolls her eyes saying how could she forget about that one. Charlie rubs her arm absently as he thinks of the best way to ensure that Maranzano doesn't come after him first.

'And Maranzano is the last one left here in New York. The last tie to the Old Ways.' Rose says quietly and Charlie sighs in agreement.

'I shouldn't have switched sides, all that secret negotiating with Maranzano, I believed he would end things. He swore that he'd modernise the Mafia, instead he's more of an arrogant prick than ever.' Charlie informs her and Rose tucks herself in closer to his side. She finds herself cold now that he's taken her from the safety of the quilt blanket.

'Some good came out of your fake allegiance, Charlie,' Rose reminds him but he doesn't offer a reply, instead he continues to absently rub her arm. She kisses his jaw and he turns down to her. 'The good that came from it, Charlie is that you were rewarded for your loyalty to him. He gave you Masseria's old interests and allowed you to keep your own.'

'Yes, I know, but what good does that do me when I can't expand into other ventures without first giving him a substantial cut of my business, for what? Because he's the capo di tutti capi? To hell with that, that's not what I have envisioned.' Charlie replies and Rose shifts her gaze up to him. He's still running his hand up and down her leg without direction, he must still be thinking. The action is making her cold but she tries to ignore it.

'And just what do you have envisioned, Charlie?' Rose wonders and draws the quilt around herself. Charlie notices and draws her tighter to him.

'Do you want to know?'

'I do, tell me what you'll do when this is over.' Rose questions and Charlie smirks at her, tilting her chin up to him so he kiss her. He doesn't want to talk anymore, however she's inquired and since she ends up getting her way anyway, he decides to be patient a little while longer. And if she's gone in the morning as she sometimes is, then he'll just have to wait until the evening.

'I'd get rid of Maranzano's position.'

'Well, I should hope so.' Rose agrees and Charlie nods his head at her.

'I'd call it the Commission. Nothing happens without the approval of everyone. No one gets made without everyone's approval.'

'Hm, so this Commission, this governing body, would also prevent gang wars, decide who controlled what territories and the likes?' Rose wonders innocently. Reading about it is one thing, hearing about it from Charlie himself…it just gives it a whole new depth.

'That's right. No one is allowed to anything that could affect the Mob's future without first running it by the Commission. Much better to let all the heads have an equal say in matters than one prick deciding for everyone.' Charlie responds and Rose gives him a crooked smile. He loves that impish smile on her.

'That's one way to keep everyone's egos in check.' Rose agrees and Charlie laughs, what she says is true. Everyone at any meetings he's ever been to it's been nothing but arguing, even worse it usually dissolving into a pissing contest. It's no wonder they usually never get anything done.

'Agreed.'

'It's interesting, your plan Charlie, quite the innovation. I think the Family heads will like it.' Rose replies and feels his move from her shoulders to her lower back. Seems as though he's still mildly annoyed that they were interrupted, she's almost certain that falling asleep in just her shirt isn't helping matters either, but she doesn't care. What's the harm in teasing?

'They'll go along with anything right now so they don't have to listen to Maranzano's egotistical rants.'

'Just how long have you waited for this, Charlie?' Rose is curious to see, he gave her a brief glimpse into his life before, but he's always thinking about the next biggest thing, so when did he realise that he wanted to be the head of something massive? What started it?

He turns her towards him and tilts her chin up, kisses her ardently. It isn't long before he has her breathless and wanting more. He pulls away and brushes the stray hair from her flushed face. She bites her lip.

'I've been waiting for this since that son of a bitch bookie killed Arnold and I had to go crawling back to Masseria.' Charlie responds with fury in his voice, she squeezes his arm in support, however she won't let him fall down the path of memories that have come up. It'll make him furious and bitter.

So Rose attempts to calm him down knowing that Arnold Rothstein's murder is a very touchy subject for Charlie. He lost his mentor over that bookie's refusal to pay Arnold back his debt. Charlie told her that he searched for that bookie for days; weeks even, but had been unable to find him. Rose couldn't help but feel grateful that Charlie never found him. She would hate to know what he'd have done to the guy, however she can only imagine.

'Then you're nearly there.' Rose surmises and Charlie nods his head.

'It's been three years…what's a couple more months?' Charlie's remark is muffled by Rose pressing her lips to his.

'Are we expecting any other intrusions this evening?' Rose questions with lascivious smile and moves on top of him. Charlie shakes his head quickly, pulling away from her so he can breathe again. She bites her lip.

'If we are, I'll…' Charlie's interrupted by Rose once again, his arms snake around her lower back and she keeps herself low on him, relishing in his touch on her. Good thing she left the window open, she's already hot and the cool breeze is a welcome sensation.

She straightens up and arches her eyebrow at him; the impish smirk dissolves into a sultrier one, moving the hair off of her face so she can get a good look at him. It doesn't last long, his hand gripping her hip in a fast motion before beckoning her down again and Rose kisses him deeply.


	18. Chapter 18: 1931

Everything stopped abruptly in July. Rose is walking towards Park Ave. just returning from her latest jaunt to the Proclamation and her meeting with Amal. They had to discuss what to do now that Pollock had been murdered. Amal didn't seem shocked when Rose told her. She had closed her eyes and shook her head. She had suggested that someone close to the entire operation got wind that there had been a survivor and hired a hit man to locate Pollock and end the last tie, thinking they would get away with it.

Rose had scoffed, she believed she knew who the hit man was and it annoyed her greatly that she couldn't prove it. Amal had smiled at her and suggested that those involved were getting anxious, hence the hit. They are getting worried they will be caught, and Rose had pressed her lips together. Rose replied that they would have to wait to see if those involved will begin to make mistakes out of anxiousness and desperation. Amal had offered to spread a rumour around to see what would come of it. See if anyone would crack and begin to offer up information. At least that way they would be able to see who was involved and what their connection is. The more people they have reacting to the rumour the better. Amal had also shared some disturbing information as well. Her experience had been that once people who have heard the rumour believe that it's about them, that the walls are closing in and it's only a matter of time before they're caught and punished, they react with devastating consequences. Rose had tilted her head waiting for Amal to continue. All she had done was put her index and middle fingers to the side of her head and used her thumb as a trigger. Rose had widened her eyes. Suicide. An angle she hadn't thought of. So they had to tread with caution. They don't want this to die just because the people are. Someone will answer for their crime.

They had used the next few hours to carefully plan the rumour using the information they had at their disposal, the names and timeline of what happened. When they had finished, Amal promised to get into contact with Rose when she was satisfied that it was having an impact. Another time Rose had to be patient. It was just so damn hard sometimes.

Rose smiles at the doorman and he gives her a curt nod before whispering that he was in a bit of an odd state. Rose didn't need to ask to whom the doorman was referring to. Charlie in an odd state? That's rather vague. She thanks the man regardless and heads inside the lobby, quickening her pace to the lift. She steps in the lift and directs the man to let her off at the forty sixth floor.

As she waits she checks her watch. A little after five in the evening. She has no idea what to expect when she gets off the lift and walks with a bit of reserve to her step as she approaches the door and gives it a light knock, just to let him know that she's here.

Rose expects no reaction so she lets herself in. She studies the lounge, nothing to indicate he is here. She sets her bag down on the floor and shuts the door quietly. She presses her lips together as she peers into the bedroom; she finds his hat, on the bed. Where are you hiding? She wonders and scans the lounge. She pauses when she reaches the balcony. Much like she had done earlier he is out there and yet unlike her, thankfully he's got more sense than that, he isn't laying on the balcony rail. He's just leaning on it, staring out into the vastness of the city sprawled in front of him.

Rose walks towards the French doors and studies Charlie carefully. He doesn't move and she assumes that he must be deep in thought. She wonders if he's had a set back in planning this thing with Maranzano. He has been spending a lot of time with Meyer in that hotel with four other people. She had made the assumption that that hotel was where they had been meeting to go over the finer details. Hopefully they haven't been caught. The payment would be tenfold and Charlie wouldn't be alive.

She bites her lip, unsure if she should intrude but the air around him compels her to move on and make sure he's okay. She takes a few quiet steps out on to the balcony where she notices a near full glass of whiskey beside him. Now it makes her worry. She stops beside him; Rose can't tell what he's thinking when she turns her gaze up to him. Charlie hasn't acknowledged she's beside him. She covers his hand with her own and still there is a delayed reaction from him. He grips her hand tightly. There's distraught in that grip.

'I didn't hear you come in.' Charlie says, his voice is flat, he's got to be hiding something from her but she can't imagine what it could be. Rose attempts a small smile but she can feel it come across as strained.

'I just got here.' Rose replies, her voice is soft and he must have seen the concern and worry in her eyes because he places his hand on her cheek and gives her a small smile. One that tells her not to worry about him.

He puts his arm around her shoulder and draws her closer to him while he leads her inside, Rose reaches for the whiskey he's left behind, just in case he may want it. His mood is worrying her; she's never seen him like this before. Despondent. She lingers in the doorway while Charlie sits on the closest couch, staring at the ground. She sees him frown and so she goes over to him, kneeling in front of him and she places her hands on his knees.

'Are you staying long?' Charlie wonders and reaches for the whiskey she'd set on the ground and takes a small, pensive drink.

'I'm staying as long as you need me to,' Rose whispers and bites her lip. 'Something's happened. Tell me. Charlie, I've never seen you like this…'

He smiles a bit, in agreement, she can tell. 'Just some…bad news.'

'Oh no…how bad?' Rose covers her mouth unsure she's ready for more bad news, but she attempts to calm her nerves and be strong, something tells her it's personal to him.

Charlie leans back on the couch and Rose watches him carefully. She can tell, he wants to let her know but is unsure of how to say it. She holds her breath, waiting, hoping that he'll simply tell her. He leans forward and Rose anticipates his words, going over millions different outcomes and possibilities.

'Bad enough, I guess. Someone that was close to me…died,' Charlie reveals and Rose covers her mouth, she is about to give him condolences when what he tells her next makes an icy ball drop into her stomach. 'It was my father…he died.' Charlie says it to her as though it hasn't sunk it, as if he didn't believe it was possible.

Rose is quick to embrace him tightly, wrapping her arms around his head as she stares at the wall in shock. She can feel her heart beating wildly and Charlie slowly wraps his arms around her, holding her tightly. Rose continues to keep him close until Charlie eventually has to pry her off of him. She studies him, still no remorse, just a stunned demeanour and confusion.

'Oh Charlie, I'm…I'm so sorry…' Rose hugs him to her once again and Charlie indulges her. Once again he pulls himself away from her frowning as he stares at her. The news hasn't sunk it at all for him.

'Two days ago…it happened two days ago. They didn't even call to let me know. You know how I found out?' Charlie wonders bitterly and Rose shakes her head slowly, watching him. 'Meyer. He was seeing family yesterday on the Lower East Side and he ran into my older brother. Said to Meyer, 'let that fucking prick of a younger brother know that our father died.' And continued on walking. So casually like he was saying hello. When I called him to ask why no one phoned me all he said was he figured I didn't give a shit. I mean, my father and I didn't part on the best of terms, I haven't seen or spoken to him since 1920, but…' Charlie trails off and Rose is just as stunned as he is.

'He was still your father,' Rose surmises and Charlie nods his head, grateful that she understands. 'Oh Charlie…I'm so sorry…'

'I can't even get a hold of my mother to find out what happened. It's like everyone's disappeared.' Charlie replies and Rose frowns, not understanding how they could do that.

Parting on bad terms or not, Charlie had the right to know what's happened just as much as the others. She nearly offers to go to the Lower East Side for him and put her ear to the ground, to see what she can find out since he doesn't seem comfortable enough to do so. Then again she could just be speculating. It's just he gave her the impression he left the Lower East Side and hasn't looked back.

'Not even your other brother or sisters?' Rose questions and Charlie shakes his head. She worries that if they don't get a hold of someone quickly Charlie could miss the funeral services. She doesn't want that for him.

The phone rings and Rose looks to it before Charlie, silently wondering if he wanted her to answer it for him. Instead, and to her surprise, he gets up and sits on the edge of the desk while he grabs the phone. Rose gets to her feet and sits on the chair, close to the edge and with rigid posture.

'Hello?'

_'Salvatore?' _

'Filippia?'

_'Yes, I'm glad I finally reached you. I had to ask Meyer's mother to get a hold of him to give me your number.'_

'You could have come here.' Charlie replies and Rose frowns unsure as to who is on the line with them. It must be someone good because Charlie sounds immensely relieved to hear their voice. She's glad.

_'We haven't spoken since 1921, for me to just show up somewhere I didn't belong…no, it didn't seem right. You have your life, Salvatore, I don't think I would have fit in.'_

'It wouldn't have mattered to me.' Charlie insists and Rose hears a faint laugh on the other end. A woman?

_'Our sister and brothers wouldn't have liked that, Salvatore.'_

'I don't care,' Charlie answers and attempts to find the right words, it's awkward enough talking to someone you haven't spoken to in eleven years. It's even worse when it's family. 'Bartolomeo is still an ass, huh?'

_'Just as bitter as ever.'_

'I know I've had differences with the family, Filippia, but for not one of you to call and let me know that _our_ father died…' Charlie pauses and sets the stalk of the phone down on the desk to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. Rose can tell he's unsure of how to finish that sentence. '_I_ had to phone Bartolomeo…What? Were you just gonna bury him and never tell me? What if that was our mother, Filippia?'

_'It was Bartolomeo's idea, Salvatore. And Giuseppe agreed. Mother and I didn't. We _wanted_ to tell you. Mother even attempted to bridge the language gap and ask Meyer's mother to ask Meyer for your number, but you know her, her English is terrible. Hasn't improved since we left Sicily. Bartolomeo forbid me from asking anyone to get a hold of you. He said it was because you just left us. You didn't want to be apart of this family anymore. That and all the trouble with the law…Bartolomeo said it was better you just stayed away. You'd bring trouble with you. You forgot about us so he wanted us to forget about you.'_

Charlie laughs slightly from the disbelief. 'I'm gonna fucking punch him in the face the next time I see him.'

_'Bartolomeo never liked what happened between you and father. He said father used to tell him how much shame you brought on the family every time a paddy wagon would turn up at the front door with you in the back. Made him promise that he wouldn't turn out like you. He said father never knew what to do with you; you weren't scared of anything, Salvatore. And father knew he couldn't control you. Bartolomeo said father was glad when you two had a falling out and never spoke again.' _

Rose watches Charlie set his jaw. Whatever he and the woman Filippia are talking about it isn't sitting well with Charlie. She begins to make the assumption that Filippia is a sister. She hopes he's getting some answers about why there was a communication break down. Then again they don't seem to be the answers Charlie was looking for. She digs her nails into the top of her thighs in nervousness.

'He doesn't know shit.'

_'I'm not saying he does, not at all. There's always more to the story than one person's side. I just haven't gotten yours yet, is all.'_

'He doesn't know you're calling me, does he?'

_'No, I'm using a payphone in some upscale restaurant here in Midtown. I'm on my way home from work.'_

'Stay there, let me come see you.' Charlie answers desperately and closes his eyes in defeat when Filippia sighs in his ear. He'll take that as a definite no. Rose presses her lips together at the evident display of defeat. He asked to see her and she's obviously said no.

_'I'm sorry, Salvatore, but I have to get home. Mother and I are staying with Bartolomeo, it's a long story. Which I'd like to tell you sometime. But I called to let you know about the service. I'm assuming you want to come?'_

'Why are you even asking me that?

_'That's what I thought. Service will be held this Saturday at St. Patrick's Old Cathedral. Do you remember where that is?' _

Charlie smiles. 'I may not have gone to church often, Filippia, but I still know where Mulberry Street is.'

_'Good. Service will begin at eleven. Try to be on time, or perhaps a bit late, that way you can slip in. You won't have to talk to Bartolomeo or Giuseppe.'_

'I'll get there when I feel like it. Bartolomeo and I have some grievances to work out.'

_'Save them for after the service, Salvatore. Don't turn this into a spectacle. Think of mother and behave, for her. It's the first time she's had nearly everyone with her since 1920.' _

Charlie smiles at Filippia's chiding tone. 'I'm not making promises I know I won't be able to keep.'

_'I suppose that's the best I can hope for.'_

'Stay there and I'll come drive you home.' Charlie insists and sighs when Filippia declines once again. There isn't a point in insisting further, even if the drive would be a short one. Filippia would merely turn him down again.

_'I'll see you Saturday.' _

Rose watches Charlie hang up the phone and then continue to stare at the floor. She runs her hands over her thighs before deciding to get up and she walks towards him. Charlie notices she's on her way over and Rose holds out her hand. She's rather surprised that he gets off the desk to take her hand. He embraces her tightly and Rose can still feel the confusion and hurt in it. She can tell he's unsure of how to deal with this entire situation. He just appears to be defeated. She has a ton of questions she wishes to ask him but pushes her curiosity to the side. Now is certainly not the time to make this about her. He eventually pulls away from her. Rose gives him a small smile as she leans against his desk.

'That was my sister, Filippia.' Charlie explains and Rose nods her head.

'Did you get any of your questions answered?' Rose wonders, hoping that her question isn't out of line. She just really wanted him to get some closure. No one deserves treatment like that from his or her family. Problems or no problems. A move like that is completely underhanded.

Charlie gives her a bit of a sardonic smile. She can see the anger in his eyes. 'I did.'

'Not the answers you were hoping for?' Rose surmises and Charlie shakes his head, again that ironic crooked smile.

'It just reaffirms why I don't speak to them anymore. Especially my brothers.' Charlie informs her and Rose nods her head. It does sound rather complicated to say the least. She laces her fingers with his and stares at his hand, treading carefully through the next subject.

'What about…arrangements?'

'Saturday, Mulberry.'

'Lower East Side.' Rose adds and Charlie exhales. He brushes her hair off her face studying the worry in those hazel eyes.

'What are you doing Saturday?'

Rose blinks and opens her mouth to answer but finds the words stuck, as she has a suspicion she knows what Charlie wants to ask of her. She isn't sure she can. 'Nothing, I don't think.'

'No work or plans?'

'Not right now,' Rose replies and finds herself trying to stop from tapping her fingers on the side of her thigh. If she asks this question of clarification, she may regret it. If he says yes, she's agreeing to meet people. 'Did you…want me to go with you?'

'Could you?'

'Of course I can.' Rose answers his question without her brain processing the thought entirely. Her mouth seems to be anxious to please. Or is it her heart? Whoever is in control right now they aren't thinking about that day carefully enough. What'll be expected of her. She may be his girlfriend, but she thought that was it. Now she's doing what normal girlfriends do. Meeting family. That thought in and of itself terrifies her.

She does her best to ensure that the anxiousness and nerves that are eating away at her at the moment aren't visible on her face. So, she has to attend a funeral...that's no big deal, nothing to get bent outta shape for. Oh but it's whose funeral she's going to. The people she'll likely meet. She hopes with everything that Charlie will agree to leave later so that they arrive later and can simply slip in the doors and take a seat near the back.

Rose stops herself from rolling her eyes at herself and her stupid train of thought. That isn't going to happen. Listening to Charlie's half of the conversation it sounded as though they'd be arriving before or with everyone else, she can tell he's itching to get the air cleared on certain issues. She hopes the drama will stay at bay, for god sake they'll be at a funeral; she doesn't want to be playing the role of referee between Charlie and his brothers.

That thought simply terrifies her. Everything she had to research to ensure she didn't alter or change anything rarely mentioned family. Not that she had been actively looking; it was more just key events. She knew about Masseria's eventual assassination, what it took to get to that point, she knows that Maranzano is next, she doesn't know how but she knows it's coming. She just knew about his criminal endeavours, she didn't go looking for family relations or ties, though she knew, of course, that he had been born in Sicily and that in 1907 he and his family finally arrived in New York, but that was essentially all.

Now in one fell swoop she'll be meeting everyone. It just solidifies it further that she is really, in actuality, dating him and has been for nearly a year. A year! She's been landing so perfectly at home that she thinks maybe a month has gone by. Here, she struggles sometimes. She doesn't know why, reversing should be easier than going forward, maybe that's how so much time has slipped through her fingers here. She's being careless. Then again this is her save haven. Back in her time, she's got to be so professional all the time so each landing has to be precise. In 1931 she can be more of herself, like a vacation and she has Charlie waiting for her. Hm, that still isn't an excuse, she needs to try her to get it right when she lands.

'Everything okay?' Charlie wonders and Rose inhales a bit to shake herself from her thoughts. She frowns up to him as he leans beside her and she rests her head on his shoulder.

'Shouldn't I be asking you that?' She counters and Charlie doesn't reply, instead staring off.

'I'm not okay.'

'I didn't think you would be.'

'I don't know how to feel.' Charlie admits and Rose nods her head sadly.

'Anything you're feeling is completely justified.' Rose replies but Charlie just gives her a sideways look that tells her he isn't so sure about that. Rose takes his hand in hers attempting to offer him minimal comfort.

'I'm angry.'

'Of course you would be.' Rose agrees and Charlie remains silent. She's rather glad he's attempting to vocalise how he's feeling not internalise it, but she'd never pry it from him if he weren't ready. She's certain there's a plethora of emotions going on in his mind. Each one vying for its chance to express itself.

'I'm…I'm…I don't know…'

She doesn't know what to do for him. She feels terrible for thinking that. She knows there has to be something. She knows he wants to do something he shouldn't, she can tell that it's simply will that's keeping him from going to find his older brother and settling a score. Of course he has every right to be angry, it's justified but surely there is more to it than the anger. He must be…sad. But she doesn't think he's reached that point yet.

Rose nearly asks if there is anything she can do for him but Charlie surprises her by standing straight up and heading to the bedroom. He comes back with his hat and Rose frowns. She really hopes he isn't going to go a settle some things. That isn't good for anyone, not right now. Even if he thinks it is.

'You're leaving?' Rose wonders when he stops in front of her. Charlie studies her carefully; he can see the concern and worry evident in her eyes. He knows she wants to help but is unsure of going about and truthfully…he isn't sure either. He isn't sure how to feel at the moment, he's everything and nothing at the same time. He just needs air. Time to process how to feel about this entire situation.

'I just…need to think.' Charlie replies and Rose rests her hands on his arms as she nods before cupping his face and kissing him lightly. He embraces her when she pulls away.

'Let me know if there's anything I can do…'

Charlie doesn't answer her but gives her a small nod. He heads for the door and Rose watches him leave, wrapping her arms around herself when he shuts the door. There's so much turmoil in those eyes.

Rose leans against the desk and does her best not to worry about Saturday. Even though it has consumed all of her thoughts. She tries not to be nervous but in actuality she's terrified.

* * *

><p>He had come back a couple of hours later. Rose hadn't wanted to leave or venture far just in case he'd come back and she wanted to be close by. He'd come back around ten at night, maybe a little past. To Rose he appeared to be the same, just as confused as when he left. Whatever he had done while gone, it didn't appear to help.<p>

When he came into the bedroom, Rose glanced up from her book and when she saw it was him, she set it on the nightstand and gotten to her knees, holding her arms out as he lingered in the doorway. He eventually makes his way to her and embraces her tightly.

They sit together on the bed and Rose studies him carefully. Still stoic. There is so much she wants to ask him but she stays quiet. It seems the silence is good, comfortable at least that is something good. There isn't anything bad about it; it's a pensive silence. There's still so much going through his mind that he won't talk to her about or is unable to vocalise that she hopes by simply being close to him it will be enough to help Charlie work though his emotions.

Silence gives way to them eventually falling asleep. At least one of them does. She had been so exhausted that she could no longer keep her eyes open and Charlie humoured her by falling asleep with her. The hours melted away. She slept deeply for those hours that passed. And then she started to become aware, even though she was still asleep.

He was restless. She could feel him shifting in bed. It woke her up. Or at least brought her to coherence. Vaguely. He moves again. Rose opens her eyes, she struggles to keep them open, blinking the sleep away rapidly and she turns from her left side to her right side. Charlie is on his side with his back to her. She embraces him from behind. She nearly falls asleep but does her best to stay awake.

At night, thoughts run rampant. She should know. God she's poster for someone who thinks about all the memories in her mind late at night. All late night conversations have the potential for one to learn a lot about someone. He's so vulnerable right now. She has to be receptive and make him feel safe. Nights as late as this one…he could confess anything to her, she'd know him on another level.

'You're restless…' Rose whispers him and Charlie puts his hand over top her. He is quiet, knowing she doesn't require an answer right away. Eventually he turns to her, she is tired, and he can see it in her eyes. She's focused solely on him but she isn't all there.

'I can't sleep.'

Rose sits up and Charlie does the same. She rests her head on his shoulder, fighting off sleep. 'Charlie…'

'I'm not even angry or upset any more, I'm kind of…numb, I guess.' Charlie replies. It isn't as though he isn't tired, he's exhausted. His eyes are burning and heavy. Trouble is…his thoughts are heavier. And he doesn't know how to make them stop. The words he always wanted to say, but never did, turned into the only thoughts he knows.

'Do you…want to talk?' Rose offers and Charlie looks at her eyes. Yeah, sure he'd not mind that. If he could articulate what he wanted to say. It's all just stuck.

'I don't know what to say.' Charlie replies seriously to her and Rose places her hand on his cheek, lightly nodding her head while studying those dark eyes for some clarity. There isn't any.

They lay down together once again and Rose must have fallen asleep in his embrace for a few more hours because when she awakens, she is alone. The room is still dark but the small slivers of light that have begun to fill the room tell her dawn isn't far off. And Charlie isn't around either. Rose slides off the bed, taking the sheet with her as she silently moves around the room, just in case he'd gotten up to meander around the room and fallen asleep elsewhere. But when she heads into the lounge he isn't there, no trace of him.

Rose sighs and sits on the couch, drawing her legs up and to the side of her while she rests her arm on the arm rest before lowering her head onto her hand. She's tired still and feels rather…off about falling asleep on him. She should have tried harder to stay awake. What if he did finally want to talk about something and noticed she was out cold. And he didn't want to wake her so he just left. She feels awful about that.

She hopes he comes back soon…


	19. Chapter 19: Present Day & 1931

'Rose? Are you even listening? Hello?'

Rose blinks as a hand is waved in front of her face and she shakes off her thoughts. Jack is staring at her deeply and she takes in her surroundings. Right. An early dinner. London. Somewhere in Mayfair. She frowns and tilts her head. 'What?'

'I said are you listening?'

'I heard that, just…not what you said before.' Rose admits sheepishly and Jack leans back in his chair. He's about to say something when the waiter appears and inquires about their meals. Rose has barely touched hers, Jack is nearly finished his and the waiter tops up their water.

The quiet murmurs of the patrons surrounds them but it all sounds like white noise to her. It's Thursday. Two days to go. She hasn't been sleeping well because of her nerves and anxiousness.

Neither has Charlie. He's been out until the very early morning hours, will sleep for a bit and then is gone by the time she wakes up. She knows it's taking a toll on him. He's quicker to anger than normal, snapped at her a few times only to apologise moments later. She knew he didn't mean anything by it. It was simply his way of attempting to cope, to handle what he's feeling, since he doesn't want to talk to her apparently. It bothers her to see him suffering and struggling like he is.

When she had been over at Cat's yesterday for lunch, she had inquired if Charlie might have stopped by to see Carlo. Only once, apparently. Rose had stared at the back of Tommy's head. He had been sitting in her lap colouring while she and Cat had been talking. Cat must have been able to tell what she had been thinking because she had informed her that Carlo hadn't told her anything specific that Charlie told him. Even when Carlo had extended his condolences but Cat made a point to mention that by the time her husband and Charlie had met and began working with one another, Charlie and his father were already on the way out. Carlo had only been privy to one argument that Charlie and his father had. Vocal before it turned violent. After that Charlie and his father didn't speak to one another for eight months.

'Rose…?'

'Yes, I'm sorry. I'm listening. What?'

'What are you thinking about?' Jack wonders and Rose shrugs absently. 'Seriously. You've not been listening to a single thing I've said.'

'That's not true!'

'What were we talking about, smarty pants?' Jack questions with a smirk and Rose folds her arms defiantly. She leans forward and smirks at him.

'We were discussing about what methods we should use to track Hennessey so we can get him for murder.' Rose replies confidently and Jack arches his eyebrow with a smirk.

'That was about ten minutes ago.'

'Oh…'

'Spill it, Tyler. What's got you so distracted? Remember: I know you.'

Rose rests her chin on her hand and sighs, looking away to the other side of the restaurant as a waiter sets down plates of food in front of a group of people laughing and having a good time. She misses that. It's been so tense back in 1931.

'I have to go to a funeral on Saturday.' Rose informs him and closes her eyes. Her mind already begins to invent lies so that she can give him information to satisfy Jack's curiosity but leave it vague enough so that she can keep her relationship with Charlie from him.

Jack leans forward and the smirk that had been evident in his eyes moments ago has vanished. 'Oh. I'm sorry, Rose. I didn't know.'

Rose smiles and shrugs. 'No, it's okay. I'm actually going with someone. It was their relation that passed away.'

Jack frowns at her and Rose can see the curious spark light up in his eyes. She can see that he was to dissect that statement wondering every word and its potential to have another meaning.

'Anyone I know?'

Rose nearly quips he sure would, same with the rest of the world but she bites back her comment. 'No. Just someone I met last year. We got along well and their family was always nice to me. I just wanted to go to show my support.' Rose informs him and Jack nods his head understanding her comment but not the nervousness and anxiety. There has to be more to the story than a simple funeral. He also notices she never actually said if this person was a man or woman. Also, if she met this person's family many times before why is she suddenly apprehensive to be around them? She's whitewashing something, she has to be.

'So what's got you so wound up?' Jack finishes off his beer and Rose absently shrugs. How to word it enough that she tells him what she's afraid of with the least amount of truthful information.

'I just…want to make a good impression.' Rose answers and Jack takes a glance at her while she puts a piece of cold salmon in her mouth. She winces as she chews it.

'Though you already did, you've met them, you said.' Jack replies and Rose pauses as she chews and nods her head deeply. Damn. She forgot she lied about that. She's gotta get her thoughts together.

'Well, yes, we did, but it was never anything other than pleasantries. Now I'm going to be with them as they grieve a loved one,' Rose responds and mentally congratulates herself for thinking so quick. She can see Jack nodding his own head thoughtfully and Rose breaks off another piece of cold salmon, having gotten used to the taste. 'And…I haven't been to a funeral in so long…and…it's a Catholic one. I mean…what if I mess up?'

'Aren't all funerals the same?' Jack questions innocently, having forgotten the previous part of Rose's sentence. Rose shrugs with a stunned expression.

'I really don't know. I don't think so…' She trails off and sighs. 'I don't…I'm just nervous. That's all. I don't even know what to wear.' Rose adds exasperated. Not in the sense that she hasn't any idea what to wear, she does, obviously. Black. It's the style, the cut of the dress.

It's 1931, the outline of the women's figure is just starting to come into play, still in its infancy stages but it has taken leaps away from the boxy androgynous look of the 1920s. She knows that she needs to be respectful in the Church, the hem of her dress should be at the knee or lower, she can't expose shoulders and she should keep the height of her heels tame as well.

Jack gives her a bit of a funny look and tilts his head, reaching across her plate to grab the pickles she'd taken off of her burger. 'What do you mean? Like at all. I can help. Black.'

Rose smirks at him with an unimpressed look in her eyes and watches Jack drop the pickle in his mouth. 'Thanks, I know. That comment was meant to be an internal statement but I used my outdoor voice.'

'Ah, well, I'm sure it won't take you long to find something.' Jack replies and Rose absently nods her head. Yeah, not long in this century and decade. Bit different a century ago.

Maybe that's what has her so concerned. She thinks it is. She really doesn't know but she's be coming to the conclusion more and more as the week draws to a close and the fact she can't sleep, is that she wants to make a good impression. It's on thing to want to impress friends or associates that's a different thing, one wants to be able to show off wealth, status and power. Or in her case, Charlie wants to show her off because she's pretty but is smart. Proof that if one looked hard enough they'd find a desirable partner.

With family it's a different dynamic. While Charlie has never outwardly expressed his concerns, she has a feeling that he wants this introduction between her and his family to go smoothly. To iron out misrepresentations she's sure his family has read over the years. That it's not just mindless sex and late night alcohol fuelled parties. And the many bad things he's done. She doesn't mind being toted around as a pretty face with an intelligent mind because really, she knows she's more than that and Charlie knows so, too. And he treats her well.

Perhaps it's the reasoning that she hasn't met anyone's family since she'd been with Mickey, and even then she is reluctant to count that since she's known Mickey's family forever. She's never had that experience before, the scene staring at her before now. How does she act? Again it's 1931 not the present, or future, however she chooses to look at this. It'll be different for sure. Does she need to act more conservative and low key, minding her tone, looks and comebacks or can she act the way she does when she's with Charlie. Loud, slightly boisterous and witty. Something tells her that it'll be the respectful attitude that will be the most helpful and expected. Doesn't mean she isn't allowed to have a small breakdown over it, an event like this terrifies her, she isn't afraid to admit it. She has absolutely no idea what to expect.

What's going to happen after the service? Will she be going down to the cemetery with his family as well? Will Charlie even want to go there or will he simply want to leave right after? What if they're invited over to someone's house? He couldn't possibly want to do that, she imagines he'd want to go and abscond quickly, then again she doesn't know what he's thinking at the moment. He has dropped some hints that he doesn't wish to go at all. He'll change his mind though…at least she believes he will.

Jack reaches over and takes Rose's hand in his. He can see the panicked state she's working herself into thinking about all these possibilities she must be running through her mind at the moment. She can say what she want, the reactions she's giving him, most likely without even realising it, indicates to him that this person she's going with is someone she must be seeing them. It's a shame the first time she'll be meeting this person's family is at a funeral.

He can see her calm herself a bit when he gives her hand a light squeeze. It's followed by a small smile. He knows she hasn't always been the most truthful with him sometimes, it does sting a bit, but he never holds it against her, she has her reasons he's sure. She always ends up telling him what's bothering her or what had been bothering her eventually.

He's able to get the conversation back on track, have her focus on something else will hopefully ease her nerves. They have more things to worry about anyway. Like finding ways to connect that Cajun ass to the murder of Pollock. Rose fills him in on what her contact at the Proclamation, Amal, wants to do. Nothing concrete has been done but they attempt to figure out how best to respond to whatever may happen from the rumours.

A few hours go by before they call it a night. He and Rose walk out and into the night and they take a cab back to Soho so he can walk her home, just in case. Well, it was because he felt as though they hadn't had time to see one another in some time. He's even more surprised when she invites him in for a late night cup of coffee to catch up. He agrees.

More hours drift on by until it's nearly three in the morning. She offers him to stay the night but Jack doesn't miss the hesitation in her eyes. Was she expecting the guy to come tonight? If he is he really shouldn't be here. Jack declines and Rose pouts a bit, but he embraces her tightly and as she sees him to the door, trying once again to get him to stay as her place is better than a hotel. He merely draws her closer for another hug and says simply that she hasn't seen the hot guy who works at the check in desk this time of night. Rose smiles at him and nods.

As he hails a cab he wishes her luck at the funeral. And she thanks him. Because oh hell she has a feeling she's going to need it.

* * *

><p>Everything is minimalistic. She isn't trying to show off her best assets she's trying to draw as much attention away from herself as she possibly can. The knit dress she'd chosen she had actually found on her way home from a meeting in Paris. She had seen it in the shop window and fell in love. Not to mention it was perfect for the funeral. It was black, of course, fitted but not extremely tight. It would keep her shoulders covered, she had checked multiple times in the mirror while in the dressing room to make sure. The neckline scooped slightly in a small wave pattern and the sleeves fell to her elbow. But it was the hemline that had sold her entirely. It fell a little past her knees. She'd bought it entirely satisfied that it would work.<p>

She runs her hands down the skirt and smoothes it out before lifting the hem on her right side and makes sure that her stockings, opaque of course, are attached to her black suspender belt. Once satisfied Rose steps into her heels. Her go to pair, her power pair as she calls them, her Louboutins, the heel she deemed to be too high. So she had to root around for her other, other pair, the Mary Jane styled ones with the smaller heel. She moves her foot around to get them on sufficiently and once satisfied she gives herself a quick once over in the mirror as she reaches for the diamond cuff bracelet Charile had gotten her for Christmas. She thinks she's ready. Well, fashion wise she is, mentally, physically and emotionally she isn't but this isn't about her. She walks out of the bedroom and into the lounge.

She spots Charlie out on the balcony and she smoothes down her curls. She reaches for the black headband with the netted veil attached to it. She turns it in her hands before setting it back down deciding to put it on just before they leave. She swallows the nerves she's feeling, attempting to go numb so that all of her attention is on Charlie.

He's staring out at the city sprawled before them. It's a beautiful view, easy to get lost in as you think about everything and nothing at the same time. The glass of whiskey beside him has barely been touched. She knows he isn't ready for this, in any capacity and whatever may come for him when they set off for Mulberry Street. He's going to be confronting his past. He'll be seeing people he hasn't seen in a decade or more. He's already disconnected from his family because of his ambitions, good or bad he still had them and did what he could to seek them out. The past, his past, is everything he isn't now. What he was expected to be and what he rebelled against. And now he has to face it. Those that hoped for him, those who are leading a normal life, dull but normal and the one who moved on so far ahead that they judge him. Silently. Loudly. Condemn him for what he's done. She knows he hasn't let his past define him, destroy him, deter him or defeat him. He's become resolved because of it. He wanted more from life. But he had taken the easy way, because that's the only way there is if you're willing to break the rules. Everyone else works hard to acquire their wealth or possessions.

Charlie told her about his grandfather, his father's father, how hard he worked as a labourer, so hard that it killed him young. He was dead at fifty. It made him believe that his father didn't want to take that same route, nor have his children follow suit. Rose could tell that there was much Charlie wanted to talk to his father about again, to reconnect now that he was older, not so defiant. But the opportunity to reconcile never presented itself or Charlie simply never sought it out. Rose thought it could have been because he was nervous about doing so. Who wants to seek out family only to be rejected? Maybe that's what he feared. Trying to bridge the gap only to be immediately shut down.

Rose can see how tense he is when he turns to her. He tilts her chin up to kiss her and Rose closes her eyes when she pulls away. She places her hand on his chest and then takes the two ends of the tie he's failed to tie in her hands while she efficiently ties it, keeping the knot loose so he can button up the top collar button on his shirt.

'If we keep stalling, we're going to be late. Unless that's what you want.' Rose says softly, Charlie merely eyes her as he slips his arm around her waist and they head back into lounge. Charlie doesn't offer her a reply. Instead he sits in the closest chair while she goes into the bedroom to look for his black jacket.

When she locates it she comes back out and holds it out in front of him. He's reluctant to take it but eventually does. There are so many emotions in those dark eyes. Rose moves around the back of the chair and places her hands on his shoulders, squeezing gently and taking note of how tense he is. Charlie places his right hand over her right one and they are quiet. Rose leans into his side and places a small kiss on his cheek.

Charlie motions her to come around to face him and so she does. He moves her so that she's sitting on his lap and Rose puts her forehead on his. He runs his hand up her left thigh enjoying the feel of the nylon before it gives way to the smoothness of her skin.

'I don't know if I want to go…' Charlie admits and Rose gives him a sad smile as she nods her head at him. She presses her lips together and chooses her next words very carefully.

'I will do whatever you want to. I go if you want to and I won't if you don't. But listen to me carefully, if you don't go you may end up regretting that decision for the rest of your life. That small voice that tells you you've made a mistake. It'll follow you and you'll never be able to silence it.' Rose warns and Charlie stares at her. There is conviction in her voice, as if she's been in this situation before.

'I don't want the…trouble that I know will be waiting for me when I show up.' Charlie answers and Rose kisses him lightly while he moves his hand from her inner thigh to her lower back.

'I know you don't. And I'm sure it'll be waiting for you when you get there. If this goes smoothly, I'd be, honestly, surprised. I have a feeling things are going to be said. Mean and hurtful things because no one fights dirtier or more brutally than blood. That's the worst part. Only your family knows weaknesses and how to attack so that it hurts, stings more than anything. We can only hope for the best, hope that everyone is mature enough to act like adults because you're there for reasons other than yourselves.' Rose replies and Charlie gives her a small smile. She's right. He won't play in to the drama he's sure his brothers are going to try to start with him. At their father's funeral. He won't let it happen.

Rose can see that he appears to have made his decision. She shimmies off of him and he gets up and slides on the jacket he'd let drop to the ground when Rose talked sense into him. He puts his hand into his pants pocket and pulls out cufflinks. Rose opens her hand and he drops them in so she can fasten them for him while he buttons up the last button and tightens his tie.

Rose gives him a nod in approval and Charlie walks towards the desk, picking up his hat and Rose's headband which she dons it and fixes the veil. They pause at the door and Charlie exhales slowly.

'I'm still not ready for this.'

'No one ever is,' Rose answers softly and when they open the door and step into the hall she frowns, wondering where the driver is. 'Is Mr Archer not giving us a lift?'

Charlie shakes his head. 'No, I don't want to add to the reasons of hate I'm sure to receive when I get there.'

'It can't be that bad. You're over exaggerating.'

'You haven't met my family.' Charlie replies and Rose glances up to him while het puts his hat on and they head down the hall. He reaches for Rose's hand and she laces her fingers tightly with his.

Why does she have a feeling that this is going to get out of hand? She is starting worry more and more the closer they get to the car. She has to give it to Charlie, though; they're taking something low key. The Chevrolet Series AE Independent. Still looks pretty well done for her but apparently this is a family type car.

The drive isn't going to be a long one. By her estimate it should be about ten minutes tops. But when they get in Rose turns her gaze to Charlie and notices he's hesitating. Rose places her hand on his arm and he turns to her. It's incredibly hard to say what he's thinking, his face is so stoic. But in the briefest of moments sometimes his gaze changes. Fear and anger reveal themselves. Grief has yet to show itself to her. Maybe he just hasn't worked through the rest of them to get to that one just yet.

The closer and closer they seem to get to the Lower East Side, Rose feels her stomach twisting itself into a tighter knot by the second. At one point she fears she's going to vomit because of it. She feels hot because of it however keeps her façade normal. She has to be normal. This isn't about her. She's never met someone's family before. She mentally yells at herself to stop making things worse.

Charlie looks over to Rose and frowns when he sees how pale she is. He hopes she's not getting sick. He'd hate to go through this mess without her. 'Rose? You're looking rather pale, are you okay?'

'Fine,' She answers in a rush and attempts a smile. 'Just fine.'

Charlie eyes her like he knows she's lying but doesn't push the matter further. Maybe because she could turn around and say the exact same thing to him. Because she knows he isn't fine. Rose covers his hand with her own as a silent way to tell him that.

It's a silent drive, the closer they get the more she worries about what will happen, things she knows she can't control but wants to anyway. She watches the people on the streets shuffling from one place to the next, the children playing in the streets, trying to amuse themselves. She's jealous that they are carrying on, as the world they know isn't falling down around them. Like hers is, like Charlie's could be, hell she doesn't know.

The trip is nearly done and judging how thin the traffic is, surprising given it's early Saturday morning, they'll be there a full hour before the service starts. That thought makes the knot twist itself tighter. What if she doesn't act right? Or says something bad or stupid? The car is so stifling hot despite the windows being open she feels as though she may pass out. There is just this pressure on her chest…slow, steady breathes. She's got to calm herself down she's working herself into a frenzy. Oh thank god, at least she's sane enough to realise that.

The feeling is gone when she begins to recognise the streets that encompass the Lower East Side. It's okay, she's not nervous. Even when Charlie parks the Chevy a good block and a half away from Mulberry she's fine. Getting out of the car, still okay.

When Charlie reaches for her hand after igniting a cigarette then the nerves set in again. She glances up to Charlie thinking that maybe glancing at him would give her peace of mind since he seems to be handling this so well. At least externally. But when they lock eyes she can see the silent sadness lingering in that dark look. Together they make one hell of a mess.

Elizabeth Street gives way Prince Street; she can see the church when they are at the corner of Mott. There are no cars in the parking lot yet. They're early. She hopes her hands aren't sweaty because that knot is so tight she wonders how much tighter it can get. She's shaken from her thoughts when Charlie grips her hand tighter and they linger outside staring at the church. He flicks the stub of the cigarette into the street and turns his gaze to Rose's. She places her fee hand on his arm and gives him a quick kiss.

'Are you ready?'

'No.'

'Then come on…' Rose holds her breath as they walk up the stairs and into the front doors.

She's immediately stunned by the beautiful church interior. She feels as though it's the first time she's ever seen a church. The interior has gracefully slender columns supporting the arches that give the illusion of soaring in all directions. The sprawling floor is housed by stunning vaulting stone arches. There are chandeliers suspended on long, aged chains to light the aisles around them. The Florentine light slanting over the nave through the authentic stained glass, painting the floor a striking array of colours mesmerises Rose. The marble floors still look as new and shiny as the day it was laid. But the floors give way to a stunning marble alter that is encompassed by carved motifs of saints, screens of gold leaf and a painting depicting the scene of the Resurrection.

'Sir!'

A stern voice calls across to them from the alter and Charlie and Rose land their gazes to a nun in a dark habit. She is pointing to her head and Charlie removes his hat, knowing that what she had been hinting at.

'Sorry, Sister,' Charlie calls to her and gives Rose a small smile when he locks gazes with her. 'I feel like I'm back in Sunday school. I keep expecting to see a yard stick appear.'

Rose covers her mouth so that she doesn't laugh out loud. The acoustics will carry for sure. 'They are quick, that's for sure. Are they always that mean sounding?'

'Mostly, yes. I've never met a nice one.'

'Huh, coming from a mostly Protestant country…you know…it's just different.' Rose keeps her voice low unsure if her admitting that she's from a Protestant country would be enough to have them remove her.

'I'd forgotten. You've never been to a Catholic…anything?' Charlie wonders and Rose shakes her head.

'No. Is that bad? What if I mess up? What if I say the wrong thing? I haven't been to…any church in…years…'

'Not even for Christmas?'

'No, not really.'

'I think I want to convert.' Charlie teases and Rose lightly bats him on the arm.

'I'm more of a…non believer.' Rose whispers to him and Charlie nods his head. That much was obvious.

Charlie notices that she begins to wring her hands as her eyes dart all over the church hall. He doesn't understand what she's so nervous about. It's quite simple and he knows she won't mess up, if that's what she's worrying about. She smoothes down the dress and places her hands on her hips. It isn't long before her hands and clasped in front of her. He puts his arm around her waist and Rose leans in.

'I think you're over thinking this.' Charlie answers somewhat serious and Rose gives him an unimpressed look.

She's never been to anything Catholic before, she just hasn't. She comes from a country where Catholicism isn't the main religion. She's used to Protestant customs when she, rarely, attends church services. Things can't be the same; if they were there wouldn't have been the Protestant Reformation. She has to fake her way through services at church back home, too.

'I don't think I'm over thinking anything.' Rose whispers back and Charlie smiles at her, before he leaves her in the aisle and walks towards the nun. They have a brief exchange of words before Charlie heads to her and motions her to start walking. They head into the foyer. Another nun there sweeping. She eyes them carefully.

Charlie leads her towards a door to the left and Rose turns over her shoulder to watch the nun who has stopped her sweeping and giving her a cold stare. They are seriously serious people. Charlie reaches for the door handle and ushers her through it. Once the door has shut they head up a small flight of stairs and Rose notices she's holding her breath.

'The nun in the foyer was giving me a good once over.'

'Just making sure you're not dressed to offend god.' Charlie answers with a smile and Rose blinks before looking down to her attire.

'Did I pass?'

'If you didn't we'd be out in the street. By we I mean just you.'

'You are so thoughtful,' Rose answers back with a smirk and when they reach the landing, Charlie opens the door there, ushering her in to a small room that resembles a waiting room with wooden chairs. There is another door opposite where they stand. The bright light from the key styled windows is more than enough to light the room. 'You sure do know your way around here.'

Charlie drops his hat down on the closest chair and shrugs. 'I used to run around here when I was kid trying to find a place to hide so I didn't have to go to Sunday school,' He informs her and Rose blinks from surprise. Sounds a bit…intense being Catholic. He smiles a bit. 'It was my father who found me all the time, yell at me, loudly, and then send me on my way. It almost became ritual for us every Sunday.'

'Hell raiser.' Rose replies seriously and Charlie absently shrugs, an innocent smile on his face.

'I'm sure there are worse things than a kid missing Sunday school,' Charlie glances to the door at the other end and Rose instantly knows what is behind it. She takes a seat, placing his hat on her lap and nods her head. 'I shouldn't be long.'

'You can take all the time you need.' Rose tells him seriously and he gives her an appreciative smile. He opens the door and shuts it lightly. She can't imagine what must be going through his mind.

He may have found out about his father's passing by accident, and the funeral services from his sister in secret but she knew he probably had no idea if there was visitations or anything of the likes. In a way she wonders if it's better for him that way, he can say his own goodbye without his family there watching his every move, silently judging what he might say or do, right or wrong. There isn't any drama attached to this, it's just a son saying a final goodbye to his father even if there had been tension between them, it didn't matter anymore. She hopes that this gives him some sort of closure, whatever will help him because even though there are no sounds coming from that room, he's been in there a long time.

Rose looks to her feet and swallows a lump in her throat. She thinks back to the people she's lost in her life. Important people. She was too young to remember her granddad's funeral, but she did remember how badly her mum took it. She remembered asking why she couldn't go over there anymore. And then her mum would burst into tears. And then to be there, next to her own father when he died in front of her…well, she is still amazed to this day that it didn't screw her up as badly as it could have.

But Nicholas…that one still made her choke back sobs. That one, to this day, makes her think back to that crammed basement in Yekaterinburg, red everywhere, the smell of smoke lingering in the air and the crude comments made by the other soldiers, got her every time. It makes her grit her teeth in anger and a lack of understanding, even though her mind can tell her exactly why, politically, any way but it didn't make it any easier.

How those blue eyes held hers so deeply and thanked her for saving his children, but they made her angry as well, angry she couldn't have done more to save them all. A misunderstood man by his country who paid with his life so the Russia he so loved would deviate so far from its path. The greater good? Hardly. But then how could he have known?

'Rose? Everything okay?'

Rose turns to her right and blinks off the shock. Charlie is sitting beside her and she smiles, nodding her head quickly. She can feel the tear stains on her cheeks and hastily wipes them away, embarrassed for getting this emotional over something that happened so many years ago. 'I'm fine. Really. I am.'

Charlie stares at her carefully and wipes away a stray one as it falls. She smiles at him. 'You're sure?'

'Being in places like this always make me think rather…sad thoughts.' Rose admits and Charlie takes her hand in his.

'Like what?'

'Just the people I've lost as well. Some hurt more than others.' Rose replies and stops her mind from wandering to the other people she's lost. The ones that make her breath hitch in her chest. Those are thoughts that don't belong in the now. Not when she's with him.

'It never does get any easier.' Charlie agrees and he glances to the door once more before he gets to his feet and Rose stands as well. He guides her to the exit and they descend the stairs. He doesn't want to spend any more time in that small room; Rose holds his hand.

They say nothing as they walk out into the foyer and then out onto the church's magnificent flag stone steps, Charlie dons his hat and pulls it low. Rose is busy watching the street, mentally picturing how this neighbourhood alters so drastically in the coming decades. She remembers what buildings survive and which ones don't. What stores are in place of the ones currently. Things like that make her appreciate being a time traveller.

Charlie ignites a cigarette and inhales deeply on it, attempting to calm his nerves and agitated nature. It isn't helping. He begins to walk down the steps with Rose lingering behind him. He stares at the street before him.

He hadn't wanted to go in to that room. When he asked the nun where his father was it was more of a confirmation that this was the church and Filippia hadn't been lying to him. Not that she would, but it was more or less to ease his own conscious. Being in that room…solidified it for him. This was real.

He always thought his father was invincible when he was young. He had nothing but respect for his father. He worked so hard back home to be able to uproot the seven of them to an entirely new country where they spoke no English…because he wanted better for his family…so only one of them didn't turn out right. That wasn't a big deal; there were four others to right the wrongs he'd brought on their family. Wasn't that enough?

This, to him, doesn't feel real. He doubts it ever will. He finishes the cigarette and immediately ignites another one. The first one didn't help. Maybe the second one will.

'Well, well, well, if it isn't the prodigal son, come home at last.'

Correction. Fuck the cigarette, now he wants a drink. He can see Rose out of the corner of his eye carefully walking down the stairs towards him. He can see she's taking quick looks at the man behind them. Charlie already knows to whom the voice belongs to. He sets his jaw and attempts to find the cordial side of him. Filippia's words echo in his mind. He's gotta be nice.

'Two problems with your statement. One, I'm not out of money and two, I'm not remorseful.' Charlie answers and turns around to the man in the black suit and hat.

'Why am I not surprised?' The man wonders sarcastically and Charlie gives the man a look that wonders why he seems surprised in the first place. He flicks the spent cigarette in the streets. He has to stop himself from reaching for a third.

'I don't know. You shouldn't be.'

'You're right, I shouldn't be,' The man glances to the church and Rose can feel the animosity between Charlie and this man, who she assumes to be one of his brothers, thicken. She can damn near cut it with a knife. 'Why'd you come?'

'I came because he's my father, too. Or have you forgotten? I don't have to give you any other reason.' Charlie answers flatly and Rose gives him a look to watch himself. The man shakes head. He doesn't really resemble Charlie at all. So maybe they aren't related. The only thing that could possibly tell her they are related to one another is the eyes. Same colour and coldness to them. She looks away when he attempts to make eye contact with her.

'Thought you wiped your hands clean of us in 1920.'

'I did, until now.'

'So you just think it's perfectly acceptable to waltz back into this family like you never left?' The man wonders sourly and Rose can see Charlie's posture become ridged. He noticeably tenses even if he attempts to remain stoic.

'I'm not doing anything but paying my respects to our father. That's it. Nothing more.'

'Right, because we're just a convenience to you, aren't we? No contact at all until the time is right. When are we going to see you again, mother's funeral?' The man seethes and Charlie takes a step forward, Rose has to hold him back by the arm so he doesn't advance further.

'fare uno scherzo nemmeno cazzo di quell.'

'sai che è vero, non si ammettere che.' The man answers back with a smirk. Rose blocks him from taking another step towards him. So much for diplomacy. She can tell this isn't going to end well. For anyone.

Rose leans in to him, hoping to catch his eye and for a moment she worries that he's going to merely shove her aside and lunge that the other man. He glances down to her quickly. 'Stay calm. Please?'

'che è il bel pezzo di culo? Eh?' The man calls to them and Rose frowns. She's about to introduce herself when Charlie grips her arm and she falls back. She knows some of those words in that sentence and she desperately wants to tell him where to go.

'mostrare di qualche cazzo rispetto, fottuto stronzo.' Charlie warns and the man grins at them before shoving his hands into his pockets. Rose just absently runs her hand over his arm, attempting to instil him with calmness.

Rose desperately wants to diffuse the situation as best she can but doesn't know how to do so. The only thing to she can do should things get physical is to get between them. She doesn't know anything else about them. She doesn't know what was the final incident to keep Charlie away from the family for good, or the animosity between his brothers and himself, though she suspects it's because Charlie's profiting off of the Volstead Act. Because he isn't afraid of the law. His brother would argue that it's because he lacks a moral bone in his body. Which, hey, she isn't disputing, but does that really make him a bad person? Well, yeah kinda. You know, when you account for the other bad things he's done. But it's just business, isn't it? Nothing personal.

Charlie just has the business acumen to look at Prohibition and figure out how to manipulate it to his favour. And profit from it. A lot. She over heard by accident once when Charlie and Meyer were having discussions that he pulls in over twelve million a year. Four million once bribes and the other 'bills' have been taken care of. And it isn't as though Charlie keeps his earnings secret. All she has to do is look to her right wrist at the diamond cuff bracelet he'd gotten her. She could understand his brother's jealousy. He's working hard for pennies, essentially and his brother is flaunting his wealth he earned by breaking the law.

Rose decides to stay quiet. She doesn't know enough about this situation and the animosity between them to serve as anyone's voice of reason. She doesn't like it, not one bit, but there isn't must she can do to change it. When she feels Charlie relax, just a sliver, she releases her hand from his arm.

'Bartolomeo, your language is offensive.' A younger woman has appeared from around the corner and stands a few paces behind them. Her English is lightly accented, and speaks as though she is highly educated. Maybe she is. She holds her hands in front of her while she shifts her unimpressed look from Bartolommeo to Charlie, where it softens.

Rose can tells this is a hardworking woman, but prim and proper. Her long black skirt falls to her ankles and the black blouse is simple, not embellished in any sense. It's functional. Her long black hair is done up simply, in a style that is reminiscent to Rose of the old Gibson style. She holds her hat in her hands. She has the same dark stare that Charlie has but it's more soul searching. Same colour eyes, when she smiles it resembles Charlie's as well. She's very beautiful; it makes Rose self conscious about her selection of dress. Even though it falls to her knees, a bit lower actually and that nothing is exposed or revealed, she still feels like she's on display. She should have gone with the idea of simply buying something in this time so she'd blend right on in and not stick out. This is not the place she wants to stick out. She wants to sigh but holds it in.

The woman walks towards Charlie with a small smile on her face and they embrace tightly. She believes this is the sister he spoke with on the phone. The one who got him the information so he could be here. And Charlie looks immediately relieved she's here.

She holds Charlie out at arms length and studies him before she embraces him tightly once again. 'Guardati. Non sei cambiato per niente,' Filippia pauses and notices the scar that runs down right side of his face. 'Beh, che c'è di nuovo.'

'Neither have you,' Charlie acknowledges and he drops his gaze to his feet with a small, sheepish smile when she mentions the scar. 'Mi fa sembrare più distinto. Più ... grave.'

Filippia smiles at him and bites back her curiosity to inquire how he received it. Then again she isn't sure she wants to know. She's certain it'd break her heart.

'Well, now that we're all acquainted again, why don't you tell him all about what that fucking prick did you last month, Filippia?' Bartolomeo calls to them and Filippia whips around with wide eyes and her heart in her mouth. Bartolomeo stands there with a superior smirk on his face while Filippia closes her eyes in defeat. Why must Bartolomeo antagonise everyone in this family?

'What? Filippia, what's he talking about?' Charlie questions concerned and Filippia closes her eyes, immensely ticked that Bartolomeo revealed that part of her life to her brother. She's gotten enough flack from him and Giuseppe; she didn't need it from Salvatore either.

'What? You're embarrassed now, Filippia?' Bartolomeo begins to close the gap between them and Rose watches Charlie carefully in case she has to lunge after him. Bartolomeo stops beside Filippia and puts his arm around her shoulder. She looks away from him. Rose can tell the look on her face. She's embarrassed. She can see the faint tinge of red on Filippia's cheeks. This can't be good.

'Please, Bartolomeo, this is hardly the place or time for this.' Filippia begs and Bartolomeo merely kisses her head and shakes his own head as he gives her a defiant smile.

'Seems your lack of respect for authority has caused some problems for our dear little sister Filippia.' Bartolomeo informs them and Rose frowns slightly, Charlie's look goes from Filippia, who is staring at her feet to Bartolomeo's, whose look tells Charlie to go ahead and inquire.

'How so?' Charlie inquires and Rose inhales sharply, already sensing where this conversation is going. It has the potential to get violent and she has a funny feeling that is exactly what Bartolomeo wanted. Funny as he looks older than Charlie by six or seven years, at least, and yet he's acting like he's five. He's trying everything to antagonise Charlie.

'Perché tu cazzo criminale, le vostre gesta cazzo con la legge e fraternizzare con altri maledetti criminali, ha portato Filippia in contatto con queste scuse tristi per gli uomini. Lei usciva con qualche mick irlandese che è stato cazzo picchiarla. Battere _il mio_ cazzo sorella! Che cazzo di mick la picchiava quando lei cercato di andarsene. E dove cazzo eri?' Bartolomeo shouts and the only word Rose can understand is a swear word, a common one to Charlie's vocabulary. Charlie looks devastated. Filippia still looks mortified and that tears threaten to fall from her eyes.

'So you're blaming me? You're fucking blaming _me_? Non ho visto nessuno di voi in un decennio! How? How is…Come diavolo è colpa mia ?!' Charlie fumes and Rose puts her hand on his arm but he shrugs her off. Uh oh. This is not going well. She keeps waiting for the words to fail either one of them and the fists come up in response.

'It's your fucking fault because you're a fucking criminal. You can fuck up your life all you want but I _will not_ let you take Filippia down with you. One fuck up in this family is enough.' Bartolomeo shouts back and Charlie is about to yell something back when Filippia is in front of Bartolomeo and slaps him, hard.

She glares at him with hurt in her eyes. 'Why did you have to bring that up?! We are not here to talk about problems and grievances we have with one another. For god sakes we are here to bury our father. This should bring us together, instead it's tearing us apart.' Filippia points out and she brushes by Charlie, striding from them as she descends the stairs to the church and rounds the street corner.

Rose eyes the both of them and then the corner where Filippia had disappeared around. She doesn't say anything instead turning around to go after her. Charlie watches Rose trot so she can catch up to Filippia. Charlie eyes Bartolomeo.

'Are you fucking happy? What the fuck are you trying to prove?' Charlie shouts angrily. He and Bartolomeo descend into angry yelling.

That's the last thing that Rose hears before she rounds the corner hoping to mend the bridges between siblings and someone she doesn't even know. Well, here goes nothing. What's the worst that can happen to her?

Doesn't take away her nerves. Especially when she spots Filippia sitting on a bench not far from the corner. She has her arms wrapped around herself and staring at ground. Rose slowly walks towards her, there's a good chance that Filippia will rebuke her offer of listening and providing a shoulder. Oh this going to be nothing but awkward she can feel it. She sits beside Filippia and there is silence between them. Rose smoothes down her dress and glances over to Filippia, but nothing is said. Rose doesn't know what to say either. How can you offer comfort to someone when you know nothing about them, their situation or the choices they've made? She's usually so good at small talk. Now she can think of nothing substantial to say to her.

'I suppose you're here to tell me how wrong I am and to offer advice.' Filippia comments sarcastically and Rose finds herself smiling slightly.

'I don't think we know one another well enough for me to be offering advice to you. Even if I did you wouldn't be obligated to take it, you don't know me well enough. What could I possibly know?' Rose answers honestly and it causes Filippia to turn to her with an appreciative smile on her face. The tears haven't fallen, but they still threaten to.

'You're dating my brother. He's a gangster. Why is it different for me than for you? He's violent, he has a temper…' Filippia wonders honestly and Rose closes her eyes as she attempts to construct the words in her head. She can't come out and say because it's the era I'm from, and where I'm from I don't tolerate that. If Charlie ever laid one hand on her, it'd be the last thing he'd ever do.

Women of this era…they're different. They're expected to be subservient to their men. Rose understands that, she can't stand it but she gets it. And she can't do that. It isn't in her to do that. That's likely why Charlie is attracted to her. She's unconventional.

'I really don't know, I don't.' Rose confesses and Filippia must have seen the hesitation in her eyes and the lack of wanting to explain the real reason why. _She_ doesn't belong here. Wherever she goes she takes her morals and standards with her. She compromises for no one when it comes to being in a relationship with someone.

'You must fight.' Filippia replies and Rose concedes. She nods her head. Stubborn people shouldn't be together. It's like two natural disasters coming together. Colliding in the middle to wreak havoc on whoever is silly enough to remain in the centre of their storms.

'We do, of course.' Rose answers and Filippia shrugs as though her point has been made. She must assume that the fight ends when Charlie raises his hand to her to get her back in line. Truth is…they shout it out. Charlie breaks things, she paces, they yell at one another from across the room…

Only when the pause has lasted for more than a minute and one of them looks at the other deeply. That's how they know it's over. They never mention it again.

'You have merely solidified my point.'

'Charlie has never, ever raised his hand to me.' Rose informs her seriously and Filippia stares at her in shock. She opens and closes her mouth several times trying to ascertain what to say…so far nothing comes to mind.

'We are talking about the same man?' Filippia wonders and Rose smiles as she nods her head at her. She genuinely can't believe the shock on Filippia's face.

'We are, yes.'

'Why? I mean…how?'

'He does it once and I go. I don't have time for that behaviour.' Rose answers simply and Filippia stares at her as though she's heard the words but is unable to comprehend them. She doesn't understand because sadly, the biggest accomplishment a woman will ever have is getting married and starting a family. Yeah, well, no thanks. She has things she wants to do first.

'That doesn't seem like him, to be honest. I'm sorry.' Filippia adds and Rose holds up her hand as a sign that she doesn't mind. In all candour, Filippia would know him better than she does. She only knows him as of now.

'But you haven't spoken in eleven years. Maybe he's changed. Then again I wouldn't know.' Rose presses her lips together immediately regretting the way that came out of her mouth. However to her surprise Filippia smiles. Crookedly, like Charlie's but more refined. She wonders if they were close as children.

'That is true…' Filippia trails off and glances to the woman that has come to support her older brother.

She isn't the type of woman she pictured Salvatore with. Charlie. He goes by Charlie now. That's odd to her. Nonetheless…she pictured him with women from shows, show girls. This woman doesn't seem to have that air about her. She appears to be rather smart looking, she's more substantial. But then again there she goes making assumptions. She just assumed this woman sitting with her has a brain to her and not a vacuous ninny she imagines hang off her brother's arm wanting nothing more than for him to lavish them with gifts. However that diamond cuff bracelet on that woman's wrist does speak volumes.

Rose can see the thoughts running through her mind, reflective in her eyes. 'Not all the men I've met through Charlie are as…not all as…' Rose endeavours to find the correct words that will be the least offensive. But she struggles. Filippia turns to her with that soul searching dark stare. A small crooked smile appears on her rouged lips.

'Not all as monstrous? You could have used that word. That's what he was. He wasn't like that in the beginning.' Filippia confesses and Rose nods her head. She hadn't expected that she'd open up to her. Maybe she just needed a gentle push. But wait. Doesn't Charlie have another sister? Where is the other sister?

'I didn't want to assume.' Rose replies and Filippia shrugs her shoulders, obviously caring. She could stop telling Rose about all of this. And again to Rose's surprise, she doesn't. She must really need someone, a nonpartisan party, a non-judgemental person, to listen to her.

'I was waiting to hail a taxi one day, it was later at night and I'd just gotten off work. A few men outside of a speak starting harassing me. I tried to ignore them but I noticed that they started to come towards me I started to get scared. But a man had just come around the corner and noticed what was going on and scared off those men. Drunks. That's what he called them. He offered to give me a lift as he was heading that way anyway.

'He must have seen my reluctance but he promised me it would be fine. So I agreed. And he dropped me off at my brother's house and that was it. I thought nothing of it until a few weeks later we bumped into one another on the streets. We went for coffee and things continued to go well. We went out more frequently and that seemed to anger my brothers. They didn't like the fact that Owen was Irish. And because he was Irish he couldn't be trusted. They didn't like that I wasn't dating an Italian.'

'That would've made him automatically trustworthy.' Rose finishes and Filippia tilts her head with a small surprised smile on her face.

'How did you know?'

'I think it's a Sicilian mentality. No offence I mean,' Rose rolls her eyes and Filippia covers her smile with her hand. 'Did you date for long?'

The smile vanishes from Filippia's face only to be replaced by a dark look. 'Over a year. He was so sweet to me. I found out he had ties to other gangsters by mistake. He took me out to the Cotton Club one night, I didn't like it there but that's besides the point, we weren't there for long before we were sitting at the table of the Club's owner, Mr Madden. Owen slipped him an envelope of cash. Salvatore's, I mean Charlie's name came up by mention. Mr Madden said that he was needing to speak to him about some war that was going on. Owen offered to do it but Mr Madden said no.

'I suppose it only escaladed from there. I was concerned about the people he was with, the things he did. I felt like I was having conversations with Charlie back in 1915, warning him to be careful. Owen didn't like that I was constantly questioning him. One night I was heading to his apartment but he wasn't there. So I waited. I mean he'd been late before. But this time was different. He opened the door and had some woman on his arm. I was devastated.

'Owen was quick to send her home but it spoke volumes to me. We argued. I told him I was leaving and…I suppose that's when he got violent.' Filippia looks away from Rose. Rose bites her lip and tries not to imagine what Filippia went through but she could very well imagine. She could imagine Filippia walking home, her brothers seeing her and their rightful rage.

'I'm…so sorry…'

'Why? You have no reason to be. I don't think Owen realised that Charlie is my brother. We still use Lucania as our surname. I know Charlie doesn't. I don't think Owen realised it. I was so embarrassed. My brothers thought Charlie had introduced us or something like that. It made them hate him more; nothing I said could change their minds. But Charlie…he had no idea.'

Rose hesitates several times, drawing her hand back more than once before she carefully puts it onto Filippia's hand. 'To be honest…it was probably a good idea that he didn't find out.'

Filippia looks over to Rose with a remorseful smile on her face. Rose can tell nothing she says will make her feel better. 'I suppose that's true. If Charlie found out…Owen would be alive, would he?' Filippia watches Rose struggle to find words to counter her assertions but finds none. 'Is he really that dangerous?'

'Yes.' Rose replies automatically and Filippia blinks at the quickness Rose answered her question.

'Aren't you…afraid of him? What he's capable of?'

Rose nearly answers that she's can be entirely more dangerous than him but Filippia's question really makes her stop and think about it carefully. She frowns and stares at her lap. 'I suppose I try to…disassociate him from everything. I try to see him for the person he is.'

'Do you find it hard doing that?' Filippia questions and stares at Rose deeply. Rose seriously thinks about her answer. The short of it is, yes. Of course she does. But she can't deny the connection they have, how much she looks forward to coming here to escape the drudgery of her life back in the future. How much he makes her forget who she is, by whatever means necessary. He helps her forget things and makes her feel as normal as one can be for being from the future and dating a gangster.

Rose turns to Filippia and she is stoic while she waits for Rose's response, but those dark eyes are carefully studying her. 'Sometimes.'

Filippia smiles sadly. 'Then where did I go wrong?'

Rose restrains herself from lunging over to Filippia and embracing her tightly. 'You did nothing wrong. He just put on a front to you, got you comfortable before he showed you who he truly was. And you left! You weren't intimidated by him. I think that speaks volumes. You're not intimidated by people when they display cowardly acts. You know you deserve better.'

Filippia is quiet for some time, stony faced while she replays Rose's words over in her mind. She is confused by them, she understands and comprehends them but they still make no sense. 'No one has ever said that to me before.'

'I'm not most people,' Rose answers with a smile. She's relieved to see that Filippia smiles with her. No tears fall, even better. So Rose holds out her hand to Filippia. 'I'm Rose, by the way.'

Filippia takes Rose's hand firmly in her own and gives her a nod. 'I'm sure judging by conversation earlier, that you know who I am but at the risk of being rude…my name is Filippia.'

'It's nice to meet you.' Rose replies sincerely and together they both stand. Rose takes note of how silent it's been. Not that they are terribly far from the Church, but the last she heard, Charlie and Bartolomeo were loudly arguing.

'Thank you for coming. If for nothing more than to be here for Charlie.' Filippia responds seriously and it for some reason colours Rose's cheeks. She's about to reply when a muffled shout of pain and she and Filippia exchange worried looks. They've left the children unattended for too long. Rose sprints to the corner with Filippia trailing behind.

When she rounds the corner, Rose's hands fly to her mouth and she stands there stunned. Filippia gasps beside her and she too is unable to move, the crowd that has stopped to stare at the fight erupting before them doesn't do much to help either. Charlie just gets to his feet turning around over his shoulder to see where his brother is and barely has time to take a step back, brace himself by lowering his centre of gravity before his brother tackles him. Rose is still in a state of astonishment and it takes her a few moments before she comprehends they're engaged in a tussle and she rushes over to attempt to break it up. Ignoring the calls from Filippia.

Rose stops in her tracks to cover her mouth from horror as Charlie and Bartolomeo land hard on the sidewalk. She attempts to ignore the loud sound that emanates from Charlie hitting his head off the ground. She doesn't know what to do, try to break it up or let them fight it out. At least that way the animosity will hopefully be halved. She still takes a few careful steps forward, disregarding the frantic cries from Filippia for them to stop. They continue to roll around on the ground, striking one another, pushing the other off of the other and charge the other one another. The sounds of fists hitting their faces nearly cause Rose to cover her ears with her hands, it's just dreadful sounding.

Rose wonders if they fought a lot when they were younger, she wonders if Bartolomeo taught Charlie how to fight since they seem to be on par with one another's hits. Rose watches that right fist of Charlie's draw back a land squarely on his brother's nose. The sound is awful and blood immediately falls down his face. It doesn't even seem to faze Bartolomeo because he dishes another right back. Charlie hits his brother once again and this time the hit takes him off guard and Bartolomeo begins to fall backwards. Just ensure he does, Charlie tackles him and they both fall together. He only manages to get a couple of decent hits on Bartolomeo's face before Bartolomeo strikes back with a nasty uppercut. Charlie is knocked back and this is the perfect moment for Rose to intervene as Bartolomeo begins to start punching him.

She rushes towards them quickly, trying not to look at all the blood on the stairs and ground as she swoops in and pushes them apart. Charlie and Bartolomeo continue to glare at one another, panting while Rose gives them a stern look each. Their bloody faces make Rose want to groan at how incapable of being adults they are. Not to mention Bartolomeo's nose is broken. She can fix that…if he lets her.

Rose slowly lets her hand drop when she can tell that the look Charlie is giving her means he won't attack his brother and when he hand drops to her side he stays put. She doesn't trust Bartolomeo enough and keeps her hand firmly grasping his bloodied shirt to keep him in his place. She can see Filippia dropping her hands to her sides from the shock of having witnessed that brutal fight between her older brothers.

'Now that that's been taken care of…' Rose trails off and Charlie spits out the blood in his mouth, wiping it with the back of his hand and begins to unroll his sleeves so that he can rebutton them. He keeps glaring daggers at Bartolomeo but does nothing. He's starting to cool down.

However as Rose is about to let go of Bartolomeo's shirt he makes a quick attempt to either grab Charlie or throw a punch at him, Rose doesn't know, instead she simply reacts. She grabs a hold of Bartolomeo's arm and twists it around his back, moving to face his back, Rose forcefully drives the side of her foot into the back of his knee and it brings him to his knees. As a final reminder that whatever was said or done between himself and Charlie has ended, Rose twists harder, pushing his arm into his back. Time to grow up. He lets out a hiss of pain.

'Let go of me, you stupid b-…'

'Voi stronzo! Watch your fucking mouth!' Charlie shouts to him, he attempts to move towards him but finds the spots on his vision have gotten worse. Rose turns over her shoulder to him and shakes her head. She releases Bartolomeo in a flourish and he takes his time getting to his feet. He turns to her while glowering. She stands there and folds her arms, waiting for his comment. But he says nothing so she decides to move forward. She points to his nose.

'I can fix that, if you want.' Rose offers and Bartolomeo gapes at her, frowning slightly. She's a bit blurry when he attempts to focus on her, is that normal?

'Fix what?' Bartolomeo rubs the side of his head and Rose begins to answer him, he immediately cuts her off and so she bites her tongue, wishing he hadn't done that as her gesture is just to be kind. Her concern is Charlie, not his brother. 'Who the hell are you, anyway?'

'My name is Rose. And as I said, you want me to fix that broken nose?'

Bartolomeo frowns and motions to Rose while staring at Charlie who has sat on one of the stone steps so Filippia can inspect his face. 'hai portato una puttana al funerale di nostro padre? Che diavolo è sbagliato con te?'

Charlie is on his feet nearly knocking Filippia down to get back to Bartolomeo but Rose cuts him off and pushes him back as she shakes her head. She turns back to Bartolomeo, having understood the word whore in there and decides to have a little fun with her response.

'Excuse me, whore? No. I'm a Ziegfeld Follies girl. Big difference. I dance, sing and act. I'm a triple threat.' Rose answers with a smirk and Bartolomeo frowns at her.

'Act?'

'Sure, I'm doing it right now.' Rose replies and puts on her best North American accent. She hasn't had to use it in so long that she really has to think about the words before she pronounces each one. Even Charlie has stopped to stare at her.

'Really?' Bartolomeo wonders seriously and Rose gives him a coy smile.

'Well, yeah, up and coming, I guess,' Rose eases back in to her natural accent. Charlie smirks at her. She can see the humour in his eyes. First a nurse in the war and now a showgirl? She's supposed to be helping him refute claims not adding fuel to the fire. 'Anyway. That a yes or no?'

Bartolomeo stares at her with a blank expression as Filippia leaves Charlie's side once he sits on the steps again to his so she can carefully inspect him as well. 'No. I'm fine.'

Rose shrugs absently while she walks back to Charlie. 'Suit yourself.' She sits beside Charlie and puts her arm around his shoulder while turning his gaze to hers. She sighs.

'What?' Charlie keeps his voice low and Rose flings him an unimpressed look. She reaches into the small clutch she brought and fishes out the small cloth.

It surprised her she still had it and it must have been because this had been the same clutch she had sliced off a section of to carefully pick up something hot. She can still see the faint yellow rings from the object. She gingerly begins to wipe off some of the worst spots where the blood has collected; Charlie pulls away from her more than once.

'Sorry…' Rose says apologetically, He watches Bartolomeo be lectured by Filippia in angry Italian. He doesn't meet her look. At least he knows what an idiot he had been. He doesn't feel at all sorry for throwing the first punch. 'We gonna talk about what that was all about?' Rose wonders and carefully begins to fold the piece of her white dress swatch so she can put it back in her clutch.

'No. Nothing to talk about. That kind of hate has been building for years,' Charlie answers seriously and Rose stops herself from rolling her eyes. Not hate more of an ego thing. Rose nods and closes her eyes. Agreeing with him seems to be the only way right now, he won't listen to reason. 'Ziegfeld Girl, eh?'

'Well you know, my career as a nurse was fun but what I really wanted was to be in the spotlight.' Rose replies semi seriously and Charlie grins while he reaches back for his tie. His head is splitting from the way he landed on the ground with Bartolomeo. Instinctively he rubs the back of his head and pulls his hand away to look at it. Spots of smeared blood cover his fingers. Rose eyes him.

'Dance, sing and act?' Charlie repeats and rubs his head again. Rose mentally sighs and reaches back into her clutch and gets the piece of cloth back out and puts her hand on the back of his head.

Rose makes an effort to not address what she's doing and instead gives Charlie a small smile. 'Yeah. What? I've never shown you?'

'You haven't.'

'Maybe you haven't asked.'

'Sounds like I ought to.' Charlie winces as Rose moves her hand off the back of his head to check. It's red, nothing to raise her concerns but still…she is concerned. It's not a scrape or anything, but the flow isn't bad. At least not yet.

'You sure you can handle it?' Rose teases and Charlie smirks at her. She puts her hand back behind his head again. Just to make sure the bleeding hasn't gotten worse.

'I'm sure I can.' Charlie assures her and Rose rests her head on his before she pulls away and inspects the fabric. Again there is blood but she thinks it's just from the cut, it isn't dark, it's light. He's so lucky.

'I guess we'll have to see.' She responds. Rose can see the pain in Charlie's eyes as he attempts to refocus on her. She sighs and wants to say something more but is unsure of what.

Her heart begins to beat faster when a collection of new voices join them. Rose takes a careful look over her shoulder to see another man, a woman and an older woman gather around Bartolomeo and Filippia. Things are being said, quickly. The older woman takes Bartolomeo's face in her hand and turns it side to side. Nothing is said from Bartolomeo, even though she hears the word what asked several times. Strange, Bartolomeo won't implicate his brother even though it's rather obvious. Filippia takes the other woman aside and they begin chatting, their voices hushed.

Rose can see that the other man beside Bartolomeo is eyeing Charlie carefully. She swallows and Charlie winces as he gets to his feet, turning to the next step to retrieve his jacket and hat, presumably where he discarded them in a fit of rage. He dons the jacket and puts his hat on, tilting it lower while he gives Rose a rather difficult expression to make out. It encompasses so many emotions.

'Well, let's get this over with.' He has a sigh to his voice and he heads down the rest of the stairs. Rose inhales and exhales slowly before she swallows the nervousness in her and follows him down. The older woman releases Bartolomeo's face and he folds his arms, watching the two approach them.

'What the fuck happened?' The man asks Bartolomeo and he doesn't respond right away. It's only when Charlie joins them that he offers his reply. Rose hangs back a few feet just in case things may happen but also because she isn't sure she's ready for this.

'Ask that prick beside you.' Bartolomeo replies and Charlie scoffs.

'No, actually, what happened was that this prick beside me couldn't stop running his mouth. So I closed it for him. Which I'll be happy to do again.' Charlie answers and Bartolomeo moves to grab Charlie by the front of his shirt but the other man steps between them and pushes them apart.

Rose breathes a sigh of relief. Even the older woman, she doesn't need to take a guess at who she is, is surprised by the sudden outburst. She has gone to stand with Filippia and the other woman; she has to be related to them. Is that Charlie's other sister?

'The two of you. Fuck off. Not now, in front of-…' The man begins before Charlie interrupts him. Rose nearly pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration but manages to hold back her gesture. They were starting to make progress, why did he do that?

'Since when did you get all mature all of a sudden?' Charlie questions and the man folds his arms and glares at Charlie.

'Since my two older brothers are completely incapable of doing so.'

'Fuck off, Joe.' Charlie replies and Bartolomeo laughs. He glances to where Filippia is with the others. It hasn't escaped him that his mother has yet to say anything to him. She can't still be mad at him, can she? Hell it's been long enough. He didn't think he caused that much grief to her when he was younger, then again she never really vocalised her thoughts, it was always his father so maybe she simply projected them onto his father which he then in turn yelled at him for.

'Where's the kid?' Bartolomeo wonders and Joe shrugs a bit. He motions to the woman with dark brown hair pinned simply behind her and simple black dress. Boxy and not ostentatious.

'Too sick to come, bad fever. Neighbours are watching her. Maria didn't even want to come.' Joe admits and Bartolomeo frowns.

'So, why's she here?'

'She made her choice.'

'You're married?' Charlie interrupts and the two of them stare at him.

'See what happens when you leave like that? You're out of the loop.' Joe mocks and Charlie curses at him, some word Rose didn't catch. She isn't sure she wanted to know, anyway. She doesn't think he minds being out of the loop anyway.

'And I'm divorced. There you're caught up. What about you?' Bartolomeo wonders seriously, glancing at Rose who gives him a shy smile. Hanging on the fringes makes her uncomfortable. But she doesn't know what else to do.

'Solo un altro dame che sei stato fottuto?' Joe questions and Charlie flexes his fist, breaking open the cuts that litter his right hand.

'If I gotta tell either of you to fuck off one more time…' Charlie trails off and Bartolomeo elbows Joe in the ribs and smirks at him.

'No, no, questo è diverso!' He insists and Joe glances to Rose before looking back to Bartolomeo, a small crooked smile appears on his face.

Joe arches his eyebrow and folds his arms. 'Veramente?'

'Oh sì, questo non è una puttana. E 'un intrattenitore.' Bartolomeo states seriously and Rose feels herself turning red although she isn't sure why. Maybe it's the mention of her being labelled a whore, again. Or maybe it's because she knows they're talking about her. Again. She doesn't regret coming to be support for Charlie but dammit her limits are being tested. She's a million and one things at the moment. It takes everything in her not to turn on her heel and run off so she can successfully hide her embarrassment.

'Qual è la differenza?' Joe wonders and they both start laughing. It doesn't last long before Charlie has punched Joe in the face and he stumbles back. As Charlie starts towards Joe Rose rushes to Charlie and secures her hand on his arm and pulls him back. Once again he shakes her off.

'Gesù Cristo! Sei veloce per la rabbia!' Bartolomeo steps in front of Charlie to ensure he doesn't go after Joe any further. His actions draw the attention of the women still in the circle, the older woman starts towards them and Bartolomeo and Joe immediately fall silent. Charlie stands there with his arms folded.

'Non voglio di sentire di prendere il nome del Dio invano, nuovamente,' She warns Bartolomeo and he nods his head. She turns to Joe next. 'E tu. Non voglio di sentire mai si parla di una donna come quella nuovamente. Inteso?'

'Yes.' Joe answers and tries his best not to rub the pain out of his eye. It's immensely irritated and sore. He can already feel the swelling getting worse. Good to know his older brother's punch has gotten more of a sting to it in the years since they've seen each other. He's also just as quick to anger and fighting as before. Some things never change.

The older woman nods her head firmly. 'Parleremo di quello che è successo qui dopo,' She continues to head towards Charlie and he keeps his expression neutral. But Rose can't help but wonder what exactly he must be feeling at a moment like this. 'Non pensavo che si sarebbe venuto.'

'Come mai si pensa che?' Charlie questions and the older woman gives him a defiant look. Bartolomeo and Joe go back to the others still standing off to the side and allow some sort of privacy extend between them. Even Rose takes a few steps back and turns her back to them slightly.

'Le vostre azioni hanno parlato più forte delle parole, Salvatore.' She responds seriously and it makes Charlie smile ironically. He thought she'd simply be happy to see him, not take the same path as the others have. Scolding him for his life decisions. But he supposes he ought to have expected that result. They'll never get that those life decisions have made him very happy.

'Io vada da Charlie ora.'

'Perché?' She wonders and Charlie sighs.

'Perché voglio.' He answers simply and the woman smiles slightly. Charlie matches his. His mother really hasn't changed at all. There is still a hardness to her eyes that never ever really went away. It seemed to get worse when they came to New York, maybe because of how much they struggled in the first few years. He doesn't know, doubts he ever will nor does he even really want to. She is still just as strict and hard in her fifty-nine years.

'Sono contento che sei venuto.' His mother admits and Charlie nods his head at her.

'Anch'io.' Charlie agrees and in a rather surprising move she embraces him. Tightly. Charlie blinks the surprise from his face and embraces her back as well. Rose is rather stunned but immensely relieved that this happened. Hopefully all is forgiven for the years they have missed one another. Charlie winces when his mother grips his face to inspect it.

'Arrestare combattendo con i tuoi fratelli. Guardate voi tre, cosa devo fare con te? Cosa direbbe tuo padre?' She states seriously and Charlie glances to where his brother nod their heads at him. Not because of what his mother said but because he knows exactly what his father would say about the three of them fighting. Bartolomeo and Joe know as well.

'Egli avrebbe probabilmente criticare come è andato il combattimento.' Charlie answers seriously and his mother shakes her head and scoffs at him. Waving her hand. However Charlie's comment cause Bartolomeo and Joe to smile, agreeing with his words.

'Sto cercando di essere seri, Salvatore.' She tells him and Charlie nods his head deeply at her.

'Anch'io.'

'Vorrei alzare la mano per voi tre, ma credo che tutti voi avete fatto un certo numero di voi stessi.' His mother states and it makes Charlie smile at the memory of all her empty threats growing up. Don't you stay in those streets past supper time. If you do, the doors will be locked and you'll have to sleep out there. He'd call her bluff, stay out later than supper only to come back three, four, five hours late and the doors would be open. He has to respond to that.

'Mai mi ha spaventato, comunque.' Charlie reminds her and his mother rolls her eyes at him.

'Lo so. Mi hai fatto chiedendo cosa stava andando a diventare di voi. Up per le notti preoccupante per il vostro futuro.' She confesses and Charlie stares at her stunned. That omission he hadn't been expecting. He had no idea that how he acted when he was younger kept his mother up worrying for him late at night. That omission makes him uncomfortable and he tries to brush it off.

'Non si dovrebbe avere. Hai avuto altri quattro figli cui preoccuparsi.' He answers and motions to the three of them that are there. Although there is one sister missing to complete the five of them. Where is Concetta? That's slightly worrisome.

'Non importa. Tuttavia sembra che devo preoccupare di te ora più che mai.' His mother replies and Charlie frowns at her, not understanding why she must continue to worry for him. He's an adult; she's done her job. What more does she need to do for him?

'Perché?'

'Io so chi sei e cosa hai fatto, Salvatore. Potete essere grado di cambiare il proprio nome in tutti gli aspetti, ma tutti sanno ancora da dove venite.' She reminds him and Charlie's look darkens. Yeah, everyone does know where he's from; they never let him forget it. Trouble is he sometimes doesn't know if they refer to Sicily or here, the Lower East Side. Charlie folds his arms.

'Sì, lo so. Poi di nuovo, non dovreste credere a tutto ciò tutti ti dicono. Ed è Charlie.'

His mother places her hand on her chest and shakes her head. 'Cerco di non. Mi avrebbe ucciso se sapessi la verità. Avete capito che? E tu sei mio figlio. Ti chiamerò quello che ti ho nominai.'

Charlie rolls her eyes at her last comment about her refusal to call him by his given name now. His mother holds her finger up at him as a reminder to watch his mouth. 'Non importa. In cui ho alloggiato via per un motivo.'

His mother scoffs. 'Io sono tua madre,' She notices Rose shifting her weight from side to side and she sighs, wondering who it is her son has brought with him. Hopefully it isn't a whore. She'd be devastated. 'Suppongo che questo possa aspettare fino a più tardi. Chi è la giovane donna che hai portato con te, Salvatore?'

Charlie shakes his head at her. 'Charlie, madre,' He pauses and turns to Rose. 'Rose, could you come here?'

Rose blinks the surprise from her face and gives him a tight nervous smile. The vomiting butterflies have returned. She takes slow, careful steps to where they are. 'Of course.'

She stops beside Charlie to see a stern face older woman giving her an incredible once over. She must be judging her immensely thinking to herself that she isn't good enough for her son. Or maybe not at all since Charlie's been away for so long. Every line on her face tells a story, Rose can tell. The hard move of leaving a country she was born in to come to one with five children who didn't speak the language either to settle into a cramped apartment to make a better life for themselves.

It must have been incredibly hard. Rose can't even begin to imagine. However couple that with a son who rebelled at authority, relished in petty crime and carved a life for himself in the underworld…she can nearly imagine the concern she must have felt watching Charlie slowly start to slip through her fingers. And that she could do nothing to stop him.

Charlie decides to break the judgemental look in his mother eyes by introducing Rose to her. 'Madre, questo è Rose,' Charlie watches his mother smile slightly at Rose and he mentally sighs. 'Rose this is my mother, Rosalia.'

She nearly laughs out loud at his mother's name. What are the odds of that? 'Hi, it's very nice to meet you.' Rose offers her hand and after careful inspection she decides to take it.

'Lei disse ciao, e che sia un piacere conoscerla.' Charlie translates and his mother nods, releasing Rose's hand and goes back to inspecting her.

'Lei non è male, Salvatore. Una bella ragazza.'

Rose knows what pretty girl means. She attempts a smile. 'Grazie.'

That little thank you takes his mother off guard. 'Parla italiano, allora?' Rosalia wonders and before Rose has to tell her no, Charlie interrupts her.

'No, lei sa alcuni parole, frasi. Parla russo e francese.' Charlie explains and Rose frowns, wondering why he had to mention she spoke French and Russian, she can only guess what comment will come next.

'Vedo. Ciò che un strana combinazione.' Rosalia replies and Charlie shrugs his shoulders, not minding that fact. He's heard her talking to her 'clients,' that word still implies a whole lot of unknown but he knows she doesn't lie to him. It's interesting when she gets angry in Russian; it's more powerful than when she's angry in French.

Charlie looks to Rose who gives him a bit of a shy smile. 'È, sì. E mi piace. Mi piace la sua. Lei è diverso.' Charlie explains and his mother nods her head pensively while she gives Rose another scrutinising look.

'In un buon modo, spero?' She wonders and Charlie nods his head.

'Yes.'

'Voglio di incontrare Maria.' Rosalia informs him and motions to where the woman is quietly chatting away with Filippia. He didn't want to make this an entire thing. But he supposes he should have expected that his siblings would have possibly been or are married.

He's always been the anomaly in the family, never wanting to marry or have children. He doesn't have that desire. Too restrictive, while he enjoys being with Rose, should their eventual end come, they'd go and that's it. Nothing messy about it. Dissolving a marriage, quite difficult to do in the Catholic Church, is harder and takes more time. Besides, he doesn't want to give away half his wealth. It's just easier this way.

'Perché?' Charlie wonders and reluctantly follows his mother, grabbing Rose's hand on the way to take her along as well, towards the woman his brother has married. She's rather plain looking, nothing special about her. Her hair is dull and so are her eyes. There isn't any vibrancy behind them. Not like when he turns to glance at Rose. She has a light behind hers.

'Poiché ho detto così.' His mother replies over her shoulder and Charlie rolls his eyes. Rose nudges him to stop and he glances at her with a smirk. She shakes her head at him. Warning him to behave.

When they join the others, another round of introductions begins and Rose once again feels overwhelmed, Joe doesn't take his eyes off of her and Maria seems dismissive. And once again when they all dissolve into speaking Italian, she's out of the loop. Oh, she feels so awkward. How could it get any more awkward? She curses herself for thinking like that. Things always get worse for her.

* * *

><p>'No, no, don't lean back lean forward.' Rose puts her arm around Charlie's shoulders and tilts him forward. She rubs his back and he gives her a sideways glance as he does what he's told.<p>

'Does it matter?' He wonders, voice muffled from behind the white piece of her former dress she had to dig out when the fight between Joe, Bartolomeo and Charlie erupted in the foyer of church. Thankfully none of the mourners that had been invited had arrived yet. She once again had to play referee.

'Yes, it does. You lean back all that blood will go downward and make you feel sick. Lean forward and it won't.' She explains and she hears Charlie sigh behind the white fabric. His eye looks awful; it's all puffy and swollen from the hit Bartolomeo gave him earlier. Now he's got a fresh cut on his cheekbone from Joe's hit and he complained about sore ribs when he's attempted to inhale. They're probably bruised or cracked from where he and Joe tumbled down the stairs of the church before she had a chance to separate them. This is turning out to be quite the day indeed.

'Is it broken?' Charlie questions and moves his hand away and Rose leans in for a closer look. She tilts her head this way and that before pulling away and shaking her head.

'No. It isn't.'

Charlie winces. 'Are you sure? Feels broken.'

'It isn't. I wouldn't lie. Your brother's nose on the other hand…' Rose pauses and glances to the other side of the aisle where Bartolomeo is leaning back as well, attempting to quell the bleeding from the punch Charlie had given him. Rose had Charlie and Joe restrain him while she set his nose back.

Charlie had done so reluctantly and smirked when Bartolomeo had gritted his teeth in pain. She locks stares with Filippia and they each exchange apologetic looks. They had made the decision to keep everyone separated since they couldn't stop fighting. She and Charlie on the left side of the church while his brothers, sister and mother on the other. The three of them had gotten an earful from her. An angry earful. Rose could tell that she was and still is, immensely embarrassed by their behaviour. She knew that his mother had hoped this would be an opportunity to mend the relationships in this family. Instead all it seemed to do was make things worse.

His brothers accusing him of not helping them out of near destitution while Charlie maintained that all they had to do was ring him for help and he would have. However because no one called he had assumed things were fine. There is guilt on both sides. Rose can see. However it isn't as though Charlie was hard to find, they know he's still friends with all those that used to live in his neighbourhood, all the needed to do was inquire. But they didn't. Same thing went for Charlie as well. They could play the blame game all they wanted but the truth is each side shares responsibility. It's just a shame Charlie and his brothers needed to sort it out with their fists instead of their words.

'Yeah, well, he shouldn't have kept running his fucking mouth. He can call me whatever he wants, but he is not to talk about you whatsoever.' Charlie leans back automatically before leaning forward when he remembers Rose's words to him.

'It's okay, I'm perfectly capable of defending myself,' Rose pauses and she decides to address another touchy subject that had started the fight in the first place. Now that Charlie has cooled down a bit she decides to inquire. 'Did you…find out what happened to your sister?'

'Concetta is back in Sicily.' Charlie answers bitterly and Rose frowns, glancing over her shoulder as more people begin to file into the church and take their seats in the pews.

'Why?'

Charlie shifts angrily and winces, pulling the cloth from his face. The blood flow hasn't stopped and so he puts his hand over his nose again. 'Because she shamed the family too, apparently. According to my father.'

Rose sighs quietly. 'How?'

Charlie moves the cloth from his nose again to check and curses when the bleeding hasn't ceased. He doesn't look at Rose. It incenses him that Concetta isn't here. Just for what she did, granted, pissed him off too, but he'd never banish her. Back to Sicily where their family wasn't. It was just extended family. He sent her back alone.

'The Depression hit everyone hard; my family wasn't spared, like the majority of everyone. I didn't know how hard they were hit, no one told me. Filippia said that she and Concetta went out to find jobs as well. To help out. Thankfully my brothers didn't lose theirs, but still.

'Filippia was lucky enough to get a job in a small office; Concetta wasn't as lucky gaining employment. At first. She went out every day apparently, they didn't think anything of it until she started bringing home money to help and refused to say where she was getting it when they inquired.

'They found out she was working at a whorehouse in Chelsea by accident. Friend of the family went there and saw her. He told Joe, Joe told Bartolomeo who had to break the news to my father. His response? Send her back home. She's been in Palermo for a year. She isn't even here for this. She isn't here with her family.'

'Does she know?' Rose breathes; lowering her voice as the last few people begin to trickle in. She feels immense sadness for his sister that couldn't be with her family to mourn the loss of her father with them. Instead she's had to do it alone. How terribly isolating.

'She knows. What can she do?' Charlie wonders and shifts uncomfortably in the pew, he takes the cloth from his face and is relieved when the spell has passed. He continues to lean forward just in case and Rose wraps her arm around his shoulders and is inspecting him carefully.

'Do you think she'll come back?' Rose questions and Charlie shrugs his shoulders, he doesn't know. All he knows is his baby sister isn't here and she knows he misses her. It's clearly evident. He's protective of his sisters. She nearly suggests that he get in touch with her as it may help him work through things. But she decides against it.

'I don't know…' Charlie admits and shifts uncomfortably once again; he reaches to loosen the necktie but stops himself. He still has to present a respectable air.

'How are you doing?' Rose questions when she sees how antsy he's getting.

Charlie scoffs. 'I need a fucking drink.'

'Not so loud,' Rose whispers and Charlie gives her a sideways glance. Unimpressed is the word. 'Just…try to think about something else.'

'And a cigarette.' He adds seriously and Rose shakes her head. Another glance to where his brothers, sister and mother sit reveal that Bartolomeo and Joe are in the same predicament. Bartolomeo is still sitting back, and if he continues to do so while his nose is still bleeding, he's going to feel very sick shortly. Joe is rubbing his eye, most likely to get the irritation to stop. She shakes her head, what a mess. She puts her hand on Charlie's knee and gives him a stern look.

'You'll be fine.' She assures him and Charlie simply slouches further down in the pew. She can tell he's getting anxious to get the service started so that he can leave. The nicotine addiction must be making him feel so agitated. And he's probably sore. Depending on the way he sits, it sometimes makes him wince. Hopefully all this fighting has cleared the air between the three of them.

Rose turns over her shoulder to the sound of someone shutting the giant wooden doors to the church and the soft murmurs of those in attendance echo around them. She still feels funny for being here. And it isn't as a non-believer. Maybe it's the fact she comes from a country whose king is responsible for the split of his country with Rome. Funny how things work out like that. A man who still had more Catholic leanings despite the woman he broke from Rome for was more Protestant than Catholic. There's a woman she should like to meet.

Rose blinks and pauses. Why is her mind wandering as it is? She feels Charlie place his hand on her inner thigh and she smirks at him, shaking her head while she pushes it off. Behave. Her look tells him. They are not alone and in a house of worship. Charlie merely grins crookedly at her so instead he covers her hand with his own. Rose glances to the faint bruises that litter his hand and all the cuts that have torn his knuckles. She lifts her gaze to him where he's watching her innocently and she shakes her head.

They fall silent as the priest comes out from the right side of the church. He pauses and offers his condolences to Charlie's mother, sister and brothers. When he notices that Charlie is there as well he has a look of pure shock on his face. He hesitantly comes over to where they are seated and gives them a slight nod.

'Mi dispiace tanto per la tua perdita.' The priest extends his hand to Charlie who shakes his firmly. Rose doesn't miss the scrutanising stare that the priest gives Charlie. From the marks on his hands, to the blood on his shirt, to the bruises on his face.

'Grazie.'

The priest then moves on to Rose. 'Thank you for coming.'

Rose merely offers an awkward, tight smile unsure of how to respond. Thankfully he doesn't wait for her reply and instead moves on to the podium so that he can begin to address the congregation. Rose puts her arm around his shoulders and Charlie glances up to her just as the organ music reverberates off of the vaulted ceiling.

'I still don't know how I'm supposed to feel.' Charlie admits, keeping his voice low as he leaned in to her. He pulls away leaving Rose stunned and struggles to think of something to say. Finally she cites her lip and leans in trying to concentrate on her words as the organ music fills her mind.

'Anything you feel, right now a week from now, whatever, is fine. If you don't feel anything, that's fine too. We all process grief differently, Charlie.' Rose tells him seriously and he glances over to Filippia who has already started to cry. Joe puts his arm around her and it makes her cry harder.

And he doesn't feel…anything. Shouldn't he? He's trying not to worry about it but it does make him feel at odds with the rest of his family. More so. Again. He sighs and leans into Rose. 'I feel like I should be.'

'Don't worry about it.' She assures him and Charlie sits back, still staring ahead into nothing. She puts her hand on his and gives him a small encouraging smile. He draws her closer for a small kiss.

Rose's attention on the service, not that she can understand a bloody word of it, is broken when she hears the sound of the door opening, its creaking soft but audible, and shutting softly multiple times. She frowns and turns over her shoulder. She widens her eyes and leans in to whisper to Charlie. He also frowns and glances over his shoulder. Despite everything, Rose finds herself smiling in awe and amazement.

She doesn't know if he asked them to come or if they were even invited. Given their association with Charlie they may have not even been welcome, after all, Charlie grew up with many of these men, they started their criminal careers together when they were young, through their teens and into their early twenties, survived things together, learned things together, all the while their friendship endured.

These people maybe have possibly been around Charlie's house when he was younger, before he moved out for good, it's possible his parents could sense what kind of kids they were and worried that they would influence their already trouble attracting son. Rose smiles at Meyer when they lock stares. The friendship between Charlie and Meyer that will extend decades still got started all because Meyer told Charlie to go and fuck himself when they were kids. Now look at them. Of course it's right that he's here, but Charlie's reasons for not wanting to have them around could have been because he didn't want the drama tied to it. It was just easier if he went alone.

Maybe it's the same thought for everyone else that's shown up. Joey who didn't bring his wife, Albert and his wife, Carlo and his wife and the other man she doesn't know that sits beside Meyer and a score of other people she doesn't know, only the few she does. Vito is in the back with Frank and Joe Profaci with a few other men she hasn't seen before whispering quietly before both finishing up with a nod.

Rose shifts her gaze to Charlie as he locks stares with Meyer and give him a curt nod. Meyer does as well. Charlie turns back in his seat with a faint smile; he places his hand on her knee and leans in.

'I didn't invite them. Didn't even tell them.' He confirms and Rose finds herself smiling slightly. He has the support of the men in his uncertain time. It's quite telling. They've chosen sides.

Rose doesn't miss the stares that Charlie's brothers are giving him. Ones that he's choosing to ignore. Those placid looks on their faces, maybe they hoped he'd fail on his own. Be a lousy criminal and spend a good portion of his life in jail. Well, the eventual ten years coming is a good portion, maybe when they read the papers that day when they announce the conviction and sentence, they'll smirk and nod their heads in approval, thinking it's about time that someone caught him. For now, though, Rose can see the envy in their eyes. He cheated and went against what was expected of him to secure a position on the so called easy street, but she wonders if they knew what had been required of him if they'd have the stomach for it. Or the cunning. Or the business acumen. It's hard to say.

And she doesn't want to waste the time and effort attempting to figure it out.


End file.
